


The Progenitor King 1.0

by i_didnt_lose_sammys_shoe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Castiel is Missing (Supernatural), Dean Winchester is Missing, Demon Blood, Future Fic, Gen, John Winchester had a nephew, John Winchester's nephew never learned from his mistakes, Major Original Character(s), Mental Health Issues, New Supernatural species Hyde-born, Next Generation Winchesters (Supernatural), Sam Winchester is Missing, Supernatural (TV) Next Generation, will be rewritten soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_didnt_lose_sammys_shoe/pseuds/i_didnt_lose_sammys_shoe
Summary: EDIT: This will be rewritten and re-posted soon with an improved plot. Apologies for all of the errors.It has been twenty-eight years since Sam, Dean, and Castiel disappeared without a trace. Fortunately, John Winchester's German-American nephew, Klaus, had kept the motto of saving people and hunting things and the memories of the Winchester brothers alive in his four children. His oldest son, Sam, is a well-meaning, yet arrogant seventeen-year-old dedicated to honoring his namesake and repairing the Winchester legacy.Klaus' first wife had been killed by Azazel, fed Sam demon blood at six months old, and had kidnapped his second wife until his eldest son cooperates with the demons' plan. Now, following John Winchester's guide to parenting, Klaus raised his three sons and only daughter how hunt and kill monsters in search of his missing wife.





	1. Prologue - Opening Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Original description: American (and ex-hunter) nephew of their father’s, unknowingly brings an untrammeled spirit in the world. Against the advice of those around him, Nikolaus Winchester has a twin son and daughter, and names the boy Sam while his wife names the girl Emma. 
> 
> Now, the seventeen-year-old hunter Samuel Henry “Sam” Winchester has been the subject of many trials, as his birth mother died by the hands of demon and infected with demon blood at six months old, and his step-mother having been held hostage by demons for the past ten years when his father had begun training his four German-born children to be hunters.
> 
> The only thing on his mind is saving his stepmother’s life and restoring the Winchester family legacy. His thirteen-year-old half-brother, also fanatic about building his own legacy, Danny is eager to stand by him every step of this difficult mission. His sixteen-year-old transgender half-brother, Dean, is also willing to lend a hand along the way.
> 
> \-------
> 
> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.

Saturday, June 4, 2055  
Frankfurt, Germany

To Whom It May Concern,

I don’t know if it’s too late for you to read these Hanna, so I’ll address it to no one in particular, just in case. Danny and I stopped writing after, you know, happened and we’ve followed Dad’s last order, at least for now. He’s continuing the hunt for you by himself back in the States while I take my summer break with Dean and Danny in our native country, Germany. I should get be getting that acceptance letter in the mail from Stanford Law School by the time we get back to the States in the upcoming fall. If my LSAT score is a major factor in my acceptance there, I should be safe to assume that I’ll be accepted. Is it common for somebody to score a one-seventy on their LSAT, and to mention, it’s only four points sort of the hero Sam’s score. 

You’d think all that hard work I spent getting my pre-law degree at Wichita State and graduating at the top of my class would make me happy, but no, I’m not happy. Dad’s more out of his goddamn mind than he was ten years ago, and I thought that was bad. Looking back at these old letters Danny and I wrote to you, I had no idea that it was possible for something worse to happen in our lives, and I didn’t think I’d ever get my chance for college. Why wouldn’t I get in with my LSAT score, graduating from Wichita State as I did, despite bearing the name of a controversial legend?

I hope at least that the hero Sam would be proud of me for getting my pre-law degree, but the question of whether I’ll graduate from Stanford Law or not is up in the air, assuming I get in. If not, I have other law schools on my list as well. This whole normal lifestyle is boring as well and I want to go back into the family business already instead of going on my way to becoming some yuppie lawyer. My namesake wanted a normal life and he should’ve got it instead of me. Maybe I’ll learn to enjoy it one day, or hell, I might even meet somebody when I get to Stanford. Who knows?

I’m imagining it’s you reading this letter, Hanna, but I don’t know when or if we’ll save your life. Dad called me after we landed in Frankfurt, and he told me that he’ll keep us posted on any updates and to enjoy ourselves. Yeah, I will, we haven’t been in our first real home since we went to the States nine years ago.

Please forgive me.

Your son,

_Sam Winchester_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a story with prologue set in the future, so I hope the edits helped clear up any confusion on the vagueness of this prologue.


	2. Chapter 1\Letter 1 - Sam's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, back to the past! 
> 
> Long before this Sam Winchester had left the family business and earned his pre-law degree, and looking forward to getting into Stanford, he was on the road with his father and three siblings. If John Winchester was going crazy with raising two kids on the road, then his nephew Klaus might be going insane with four! Sam is writing a letter to his missing step-mom, held hostage by a demon.
> 
> Sam and Emma, the twins, are seventeen, Dean is sixteen, and Danny is thirteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.
> 
> This story has two narrators and switches off between the two after each chapter once this chapter is complete. The prologue really didn't go into much detail of Sam Winchester's futuristic namesake, and doesn't tell much about him. I will try to make this as least confusing as possible.
> 
> You guys may notice where some of my inspiration for this story came from The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, and Legacies. Hope you guys enjoy this!

Monday, November 11, 2047  
Lebanon, Kansas

Hey, Hanna,

I turned seventeen today and Dad tried to make my birthday better than the last two. He quit making promises to show up anywhere he didn’t think he’d show up to a few years ago, so he just promises small things like bringing back gifts and food, like when he got back from a hunt. It’s easy to keep those promises and it doesn’t require much effort, but Dad’s had a lot on his plate in the past ten years, and he’s wanted to keep every promise he broke.

I know you’re grieving at the thought of Dad neglecting my birthday and probably want to smack the shit out of him, but please understand. He’s doing his best, but I know it doesn’t look like he’s doing his best. It doesn’t help at all that different teachers over the years suspected that at least Dean and I’ve been abused, so we’re not strangers to being questioned by social workers occasionally. CPS has never been able to build a case against Dad in their pathetic attempts to prove that he’s physically and emotionally abusive toward us, and he’s negligent to provide a stable home for us.

He’s none of the above, yet the surname Winchester tends to turn heads with social workers, given that Uncle John had gone through a similar problem. Then again, Uncle John never had a half-soulless, Hyde-born son infected with demon blood either. Well, before I begin to start to tell you about the tragedy that’s become our lives while you’ve been away, there’s occasionally brief moments of peace, and any of our birthdays are usually one of them.

Usually, he just calls and tells one of us we can rent a movie on pay-per-view and order a pizza, and either goes off on a hunt by himself or on a bender.  
It’s not like I need the extra food, to be honest, since a couple of the perks of lacking half a soul means I don’t need nearly as much food and sleep that regular people do. I always accept the kind gesture, though. Today, though, he stuck around for about a solid ten minutes and even offered to order the pizza himself this time. It pleasantly surprised me that he was able to pull himself together for a little bit today, and he left right after I ate two or three slices of pizza.

I picked out one of my favorite movies, which is “An American Werewolf in London,” on the motel pay-per-view. It’s strange to think that it’s been ten years since we’ve lost you, and I wish Danny could remember you as well as the rest of us do. I’ve raised him the best that I could in Dad’s stead, so you’ll be very proud of him.  
Dad seems to be changing, Hanna, for the better. He’s paranoid as hell and he seems to think that it’s selfish if he’s not out looking for you about waking minute, so I’m used to him leaving us by ourselves in motel rooms all the time.

After we moved to the States seven years ago, we moved in with Kyle in Kansas City for about a solid year or two. He’d leave us there or to stay at Steven’s an hour away in Lawrence for weeks at a time when we were younger, although Kyle’s home is technically ours as well. If Dad had been able to fight against his paranoia for ten minutes, then who knows what else he might do next! I’m not keeping any expectations, though, as I’ve learned that having an exception of Dad only leads to anger and disappointment. However, he pulled me aside before he left, and had a proud smile on his face.

Seriously, he doesn’t smile all that much anymore, but something changed in him as hard as it is to keep my hopes up. I can’t let myself get disappointed by him again, as shitty it is to say about Dad. “Sammy, I know you have a lot on your shoulders and I’m proud of you for holding all of us up, and I haven’t been the best father for the four of you.” He told me today. “Tonight, you deserve a break. I was thinking we could go do a salt and burn to get our minds off your mum tonight. How about it?”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said with a smile, “I’d like to do that.”

It’s sure as hell mild compared to dealing with actual werewolves and other things we hunt. Many of the other things thought to be fictional, like demons and vampires are real. I understand that it’s probably confusing for you to come back and see all of this information, but pretty much anything (unless it’s Godzilla or unicorns) are real. We primarily move from motel to motel all over the country for different hunts that we call ‘cases,’ too. Normally, we get two rooms, and he must hustle a lot of poker and pool to save up the money.

I stay in one room with Dean and Danny while Emma stays in the other room with Dad because I’m sure you remember how much we argued over everything and it’s worse than before since she’s found more reasons to hate me in the past ten years. Dean and I take turns each night sleeping on the shit motel bed and on the usually equally uncomfortable roll-out bed, and fortunately, I only need four hours sleep to sustain throughout the day.

All three of my siblings have expressed envy at some point that being half-soulless means I don’t need that much sleep.

We let Danny keep the bed because he has back pain and that reminds me to mention here about saving up for a new memory foam pillow for him to put underneath his back. The old one got too worn out after eight years of use. If I had it my way, we’d be back in Kansas City or Lawrence, Kansas, more often with family blood and non-blood. Hunting is how we deal with our problems in the family because the issue is usually a supernatural one. Too bad Germany isn’t an option as you’re probably here, where it’s a demon’s paradise.

My birthday is a sombre occasion, given that we lost you that night and I was in the room when it happened, so Dad’s always the one in the shittiest mood and I only think about that night as well when this miserable day comes every year. I don’t consider that much of a big deal, unless I’m turning eighteen. Hunting is our way of clearing our heads, letting any pent-up aggression out, and a distraction that especially benefits civilians. That’s why it surprised me that he didn’t go out alone and stay out the entire day, as usually the most interaction we have with him is on the training on weekend mornings.

It’s essentially military type training as it’s how Dad learned how to hunt, and of course, Opa learned from Uncle John. It’s my great-uncle served in the Vietnam War, so it’s rigorous as fuck Marine training. I’ve been getting up at dawn to practice hand-to-hand combat, everything from shooting a gun to reassembling one in record time, and all other sorts of weapon training for ten years now.

My younger siblings learned quickly that crying would only make them work harder, and he started theirs at seven, too. Emma, Dean, and I started all of ours in Germany, and we moved to the States a year before he could start his, nor did he complete his grade 1 back at home either. On the same subject, primary school goes up grade 4 in Germany, but here in the States, primary schools go up to grade 5.

Anyhow, if any of us screwed up whatever we were doing, we had to do it again and again until we got it right. That’s, in part, of why I believe Dean is tough as he is. Dad was tougher on him than the rest of us, and that wasn’t fair at all, regardless of how emotional he used to be when he was little and still identified as female. I imagine you’re thinking that since this is usually the longest amount of time we have with Dad, then he’s out of his mind with grief, and you’d be correct to assume that. It’s not too far of a stretch to say he’s more like Uncle John than Opa, honestly.

Honestly, Hanna, I know none of this is right. I know he should be here with us more often and we should be staying in a stable environment. It’s not so bad on most days and we’ve lived like this long enough that it’s normal to me. I usually cover the necessities, since Emma is dead tired all the time and I let her get as much sleep as she can get, given that it doesn’t take long for me to get four hours of sleep in.

She pitches in from time to time and I don’t mind covering for her. I wish Dad would help out more, but he barely has any energy himself. He exhausts himself on every hunt and investigates every possible lead to get you back and he’s obsessed with finding the demon responsible for this whole thing, but we’re okay. He’s doing this all for us and I’ll be the one to kill the demon that took you no matter what Dad says. They already killed my birth mum and I won’t let them kill you, too. Emma’s like me, but you wouldn’t need to hold her at gunpoint to get her to talk about her feelings.

You’d need a gun to get Dean to talk about his feelings after Dad’s genius method of ‘toughening him up’ really fucked my younger brother up, and that’s a can of worms I don’t feel like opening up right now. Danny, though, he brings you up and he’s not afraid to talk about what’s on his mind or call Dad out when he’s being more erratic than usual. He’s easy to anger, just like me and Emma, but she and I know our limits on when not to call Dad out on his shit. Anyhow, I know you’re alive and you’re gonna have your family back after ten years. Whenever it’s just me, it kind of goes sort of like this:

I get up around five in the morning and get myself ready for school. After I take care of my morning shower and other stuff in the bathroom, I normally have time to get some of my homework done before everyone wakes up. Danny’s a pain in the ass to wake up every morning, so I must make sure that I have a solid hour to waste until he finally does get up. Sometimes I just need to toss a little holy water in his face if he’s irritating me enough.

I don’t always get my homework turned in completed, although I often do it night and do what I can before school after getting four hours of sleep in. People without a soul at all don’t require any sleep, but I’m grateful for the large amount of sleep I don’t require. Sometimes I can get it turned in late if the teacher is nice enough to make exceptions, and they just cut out a few points for it being late. If we’re in a town and doing a job, then it’s almost a guarantee nothing complete will be turned in.

I know you must be shaking your head and clenching your fists at Dad’s absence and him teaching me to put hunting above education, but when I find you, ‘hunting’ will be my answer when you ask how I found you. It’s more important than education, unless it risks somebody attempting to throw CPS on our trail again. My teachers over the years have been sending their complaints about me not turning in complete work (or occasionally nothing at all) to the principal, then the principal tells Dad that I’m gonna flunk whichever grade it was unless I ‘apply’ myself more to my homework.

Normally, my marks on pop quizzes, tests, and exams are good enough to pass, but there’s always the threat of summer school in whichever place we’re in. It’s still a pain to hear it repeatedly, and I want to be able to put more focus into school. It doesn’t help despite living in the States for a long time that people still assume that I just flown in here from Germany yesterday and it’s frustrating. When people hear my name, they think it’ll be an American transfer student, and they’re usually surprised that I’m German.

After we lost you, Dad took us back to Germany, and he trained us there for the next three years while still attending the local Montessori in Berlin, and moved back to Kansas City. God, I miss Germany so fucking much right now. I’m tired of teachers calling me ‘inattentive,’ ‘unmotivated,’ ‘lazy,’ ‘careless,’ and a ‘slacker,’ among many other words that describe the poor student that I am.

We’re in Lebanon, Kansas, right now, helping one of Dad’s old friends out with a poltergeist, and my AP chemistry teacher here seems to hate me. Can they not see my marks on every maths and science quiz and test I turn in? I’ve hardly ever score lower than an A in both subjects! My worst subject is English and the worst I’ve got in that is a low C, but fortunately, most of the teachers are more lenient with me as English isn’t my first language and give helpful input most of the time.

They’ve re-tested me every year since the initial testing they did when we moved here when I was still in grade 5 just to see if the other tests were graded wrong or see if I cheated. They’ve always wrong about me in the end, so the jokes on them. I think she intentionally put down one of my quizzes by a few marks two days ago and I went to talk to her yesterday after proof-reading my textbook and writing down the answers in the book compared to mine. I knew she’d react badly, but I need these test marks to pass.

Hanna, I need to let you know that I can use the past and present tenses accurately when writing English, but as you know, speaking it is a whole different matter. My siblings struggle as well with it. I’ve been told that I overly **emphasize** sounds of the words (namely our last name) I have trouble pronouncing and when I’m making sure I’m using the correct tense, and believe me, the idiots throughout secondary school, mainly in middle-schools here seemed to enjoy making a joke out of my accent.

“I don’t mean to undermine your authority, but a few of my answers are **marked** wrong.” I said as I sat the quiz on her desk and the sheet of paper. “I double-checked the textbook and **wrote** down the textbook answer with the question numbers you mark down wrong.”

I explained it respectfully and she gave me an incredulous glare as she picked up both papers.

“Do you patronize and correct all of your teachers, Sam Winchester?” She demanded angrily, seeming to hold her tongue. “I’m not going to tolerate much more of your pretentious attitude. Do yourself a favour and learn how to speak proper English before you correct people.” I was pissed when she accused me of patronizing her and she knew that I answered those questions correctly.

How could she accuse me of being pretentious? I don’t go out of my way to flaunt off my marks and she got back at me today, and the jab at my English was uncalled for.  
Why do so many people think I’m arrogant? The lady embarrassed me in class yesterday when I didn’t have my homework complete (again) and slammed her hand on my desk loudly. “Do you want to be here or not, Sam?!” She yelled. “See me after class.”

She threatened to kick me out if I don’t start turning in assignments, so there’s that problem right now. I want to be honest with you and I don’t want you to worry about my education. I’ll figure out how the hell I’m supposed get my work turned in, I promise. If we find you before I graduate, I do plan on going to a community college and then transfer to four-year university to study to become a doctor or a scientist. I’ll be fine, I promise you, but family comes first.

Winchesters never turn their back on family, although I wish I could pronounce the ‘w’ sound in our last name. A lot of idiots have had a fun time tormenting me with that fact in middle schools as well. I have hard enough time waking Danny up and he always complains that’s the crappy motel beds that hurt his back, so I normally give him a couple ibuprofen before bed, and if it’s bothering him bad enough, I give him half of one of the stronger opioids you find in clinics.

A half of a Vicodin usually does the trick for back pain.

Dad doesn’t buy them off a dealer, so he steals them from the clinics with minimal security or gets them from Steven or Kyle. I know it’s not a good idea to give him that stuff, but what else is there to give him for the pain? He’s never too tired and I give him the lowest dose possible until I can find the right kind of pillow for him.  
He and I both told Dad about it and he said he’ll look, but I don’t know if he’s looking for the one I specified. We need to find him a memory foam pillow and those are expensive.

I really don’t want to have to steal anything this time and I’ve only ever stolen food and other cheap things from cheap gas stations that can’t afford camera surveillance a few times over the years. Right now, he’s got two light blankets over top the mattress from money he and I stole six years ago. I distracted people and he played the lost little kid act. He’s not seven anymore and we have to use other means to steal, if we don’t have options.

I played the frantic older brother while he took $15 out of the guy’s pocket. The guy had $40 in his wallet, but we’ve been taught not to take more than we need. People will obviously notice if too much money is missing. Danny only took about $15 since the blankets are made from cheap material and he felt bad after we walked over to a Dollar General to buy the blankets.

“Danny, do you want to be in pain at night?” I asked him after we got back in our motel room that stressful day.

He nodded no with an even guiltier look on his face.

“I don’t like stealing either,” I said, “but you know we have to do things we don’t like to survive sometimes.” He sighed and looked up at me. He was 4’2”, and I was 5’0”.  
Now, six years later, I’m 6’3” and he’s 5’2”.

If there’s really a god out there, then I pray I don’t get any taller. Danny wants to be tall, but I don’t think he wants to be over six feet and not even eighteen yet.  
Anyhow, he seemed content with my answer, but I don’t know if you are, Hanna. I know stealing is wrong and we’ve stolen money from people more than enough times to count.

Dad leaves us with a certain amount of money, but sometimes the stores are more expensive based on the area we’re staying in with tax added in and all. I know you’ll think he’s being negligent and selfish, but he’s doing the best in the situation we’re in. I’m living on stolen time because it should have been me taken instead of you. I usually try my hardest not to think about it and what’s happening to you right now because it doesn’t seem like demons to treat you well, so I just wake up Danny and make sure he’s ready.

Emma and Dean don’t need my help getting ready, but him? He’s nearly made me late getting ready on time before and he claims that I complain more than him! He tests my goddamn patience every morning. My twin doesn’t have any patience before noon, but she’ll pull herself together enough for Dad. He needs to rest for at least a whole day and recharge before going out on another hunt, but I haven’t seen him take a break like that in years.

He’s stressed all the time, Hanna, so he’s not thinking right. He hasn’t thought coherently even once since we lost you, but I think he’ll be back to his former light-hearted and reasonable self once we find you and help you recover. Dad gave me his old 2019 Honda Civic when I turned sixteen and got my license at home in Kansas City, so I drive Dean and Danny to school.

He managed to get a good deal on an old 2006 Hyundai Sonata for Emma, where she got her license on the same day as me at his cousin’s used car dealership in Lawrence. He’ll do the same for Dean when he passes his driver’s ed class, although he already has her permit, and can’t take his driver’s test until he completes the class. He got himself a 2018 Toyota Prius. Although, I doubt the hero Dean’s 1967 Chevy Impala will be located easily, as that’s what my sixteen-year-old brother really wants to drive.

Emma and I are in grade 12, Dean’s in grade 10, and Danny’s in grade 8.

Unfortunately, he’ll be in the high school alone after two years in it, but Dean told me he’ll be fine, and Emma told me not to be such a “damn mother-hen.” I swear, they can read me, especially my twin. People say she’s as abrasive as me sometimes, but not arrogant like they say I am. Emma tells me that I’m an asshole all the time and even Danny agrees with her on that! Dean doesn’t take sides, but he probably agrees by that stoic expression on his face whenever the topic comes up. I didn’t ask to lose most of my conscience.

Hanna, I don’t think I’m that bad, but I’ll let you be the judge of my character. I know I’m not the same little seven-year-old kid you remember and I know I’m way colder than I used to be, and I wouldn’t say that I’m arrogant. Sure, I’m flawed as hell and better at some things that regular people can’t do, so how does that make me arrogant?

Aren’t pretentious people unwilling to admit to their faults?

Somebody is always better at a skill or hobby than somebody inexperienced, or just too lazy to try to understand! I suck at a lot of things most regular people seem better at, like socializing and making friends. I’ll admit to an anger problem, but I won’t admit to being arrogant. I don’t really need a lot friends at a school I never stay long at anyways.

Dean and Danny try to make friends and usually try to maintain contact with texting or email. They’ve met a few people they exchanged numbers (or emails) with and Emma doesn’t care for it because she’s more interested in the hanging out in person aspect more. Unless I’m helping civilians on a case (I’ll explain this to you later in the next letter), people usually don’t like me.

I’m glad that Dean, Emma, and Danny have good interactions with people, though. If I made friends, I wouldn’t be able to take care of Dean (when he needs help) and Danny while managing hunting. Not to mention that I barely have enough time for homework as it is and I have a feeling that having good test marks aren’t gonna cut it this time. We don’t have a lot of ‘normal’ things, Hanna, as you can tell.

School is the biggest normal place the four of us go, homework and studying are the only normal responsibilities we have, and other than that, hunting is what we’ve been trained to do. Occasionally, he lets me (or Emma) go out if one of us want go out on a date with somebody, and either of us usually never see that person again since we move around so much.

You read earlier on how Dad offered to take me out on a salt and burn (putting a spirit to rest) tonight and I’m sure you’re confused on how going on another hunt is a reward to me. It’s a reward because it’s the only thing I can do that makes me feel good, especially killing things. Plus, I don’t get to hunt alone with Dad often since Emma’s pretty much at the same par as me.

My twin and I take turns watching Danny and usually Dean comes on over half of the hunts we go on. Emma, Dean, and I allowed to go on about any hunt.  
Dean’s tough as hell, so he can hold herself against a shapeshifter, help with packs of werewolves, and even helps clear out vampire nests better than I could when I was fifteen. I was too worried about coming back to the motel alive to Danny.

Danny’s always begging Dad to let him do more hunts with us and I told him that he should be lucky Dad lets him help with salt and burns and poltergeists right now.

My twin, second oldest brother, and I were allowed to hunt more dangerous things when we were all his age, and he never hesitates to bring it up. Dad never tried to protect my twin, brother, and I much from knowing the truth and keeping us from going out to hunt because we lost our innocence the night you were taken, so there wasn’t much of anything left to preserve for us. Danny, though, he had a chance to be able to be a kid longer than any of us did, and even Emma get can defend Dad on that one.

I’m lucky that I have enough energy to help him with his homework after school and Dean usually doesn’t ask for help, but I offer anyways and he lets me help him out on the things he really doesn’t understand. I’d offer the same to Emma, but she disappears in the other motel room after we finish up school or a case. Emma doesn’t want to be around Dad’s loyal soldier and gets pissed at me for not standing up to him when she claims he “unfairly” criticizes me, but I know when I have it coming, so I don’t get it. She’s said that I’m his “obedient attack dog,” and I justify everything wrong he does.

I know it’s wrong, but it’ll pay off in the long run. That’s what gets Emma so pissed off at me and I wish that I could lie to her about it, but I can’t lie that this is all for your sake. Not Dean, though. I mentioned that Dad was tougher on him, well, the truth is he’d gone too far with it. He should have been more careful with the methods he used to ‘toughen’ Dean up and things were ugly between him and I until he promised to never do anything like that again.

My second oldest brother usually hiding something and acts like the shit back then never happened. He still thought of himself as female then, too.

Dean wanted to start taking puberty blockers at ten and stopped those not long after his birthday to start hormone treatment this year. God, my sixteen-year-old brother thinks he must hold everything in. I always see him get him anger out when he’s decapitating a vamp or shooting a silver bullet in a werewolf’s heart, and the relief that follows. He’s quiet, but don’t be surprised how aggressive and competitive he can be if somebody angers him badly enough.

Dad was worried he’d get too startled or emotional to react since you know how he’d be the quickest to get upset or start crying before identifying as male but telling him to follow my example is shitty advice. I directly told him not to follow my example, but he did it anyway because I’m all that he’s ever really had for a father-figure. I don’t cry because I think its weakness and I’m a terrible role model, so he doesn’t cry much at all. Dean’s fucked up and doesn’t let it show, because I’m fucked up and I don’t let it show. He’s learned her coping mechanisms from me and I’m not the poster teen for mental health at all.

Some of his stuff are my old clothes and most of it came from Steven’s attic full of old flannel shirts. I’d started to grow my hair out when he got his cut short just so he can see that it’s okay to have longer hair, but it hasn’t worked so far. I really hate how he thinks having long hair equals not being masculine enough, and he doesn’t want to be feminine in any way. Thank Dad for that one.

Most people think he’s biologically a guy because of his appearance and his voice is lower than what a girl’s voice normally is, and he doesn’t have a feminine build either all thanks to the puberty blockers and hormones. His masculine build is still hidden under two or three layers of clothing for reasons I don’t understand. I don’t know if he does that if he’s worried or he’s comfortable, but I can’t say I’m not curious. He’d never tell me even if I did ask him.

To give you better idea of my mental state, I’d probably have more than just conduct disorder, ADHD, and Bipolar I disorder if I ever saw a psychiatrist again. I never will, but I’m not stable as I want to think I am even when I was still taking medicine for that shit they think I have, although Dad still has to pick up the prescriptions to make it look like I’m taking it and take me to monthly appointments.

Fortunately, I’m either fooling the doctor or he just gave up hope on me ever getting back on Lithium. Good thing I’m half-soullessness, or else I would’ve needed to stay on them.The mood stabilisers they prescribe for Bipolar disorder made feel like a soulless zombie, and I needed more than four hours of sleep and food when I was on that shit. I was almost a regular person from when I was in grade 6 up until getting off them back in grade 9.

Danny is who I usually spend the most time with and he’s more welcoming to the company. I help him with any homework he has trouble with, make sure he goes to bed at an hour before time becomes ungodly for school and training on weekends, and for fun, we like to watch the old 1970s and 1980s horror movies available for free when a motel we stay at usually has one or two free pay-per-view channels. I’m sadly the closest thing he has to a parent.

He doesn’t remember you at all since he was only three at the time and I tell him stories about you whenever he asks. Dean tells him stories of the very few things he can remember back when he was five, too. Dad saved a few old pictures of you and him and our old yearly family pictures, so he knows what you look like. I wish he saved pictures of my birth mum, too.

One more thing before I stop writing because I’ll probably forget to write this down for you later. When Danny was little, he asked me if there’s angels out looking for you, too, and I didn’t know how to answer it. I personally don’t believe in god or angels, but I didn’t want to discourage him from having hope. I know Dean finds comfort in god and prays every night before bed. It makes him feel better and makes him feel safer, and if he (or anyone else) isn’t hurting anybody, then pray all you want. Danny’s seen him pray, but he’d asked me first.

As much as I hate it, Dad basically put me in charge of taking care of Danny since my twin and second oldest brother were emotionally out of commission for a couple of years after you were taken from us. If you ask me, Emma’s still out of commission and Dean recovered after Dad unintentionally traumatised him more than he already was after he turned seven. Dean had been about eight when she started helping me out with Danny, so you could say he’s like a substitute parent if I’m not around, as weird as that sounds.

My twin, though, she’s recovered as much as she probably can. She’ll shut down and avoid being around anybody, like Dad has been doing frequently since we lost you, and she’s more neurotic than I am. She holds more shit in than she can probably handle and it usually comes out toward me when I piss her off at the wrong time, since I often tend to get on her nerves while trying not to.

“It’s up to you on that, Danny. There’s a ton of lore on angels, but no one’s ever seen one. If it makes you feel better to believe there’s angels looking for Hanna, then believe in it.” I said. “If you want to believe in god and that makes you feel better, then believe. If you don’t push it on other people or hurt them in any way, it’s up to you.”

He smiled.

“Sammy, what do you believe?” He asked me honestly. “I don’t believe in god or angels because I haven’t seen them, but I believe in family.” I answered with a smile back. I meant every word of that and I don’t know who I’d be without family. I’d probably have gone off the rails and become a serial killer, or something extreme like that to fill a void that I don’t think can ever be filled. Until we get you back and I kill that son of a bitch, I’ll stay alive for them.

Your son,

_Sam_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think?
> 
> German translations (if accurate)
> 
> Opa=Grandpa


	3. Chapter 2\Letter 2 - Danny's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Sam tells writes to Hanna, his missing step-mom, about how his father have brought him and his siblings up in the family business. 
> 
> Now: His youngest brother, Danny, finds Sam's letter and decides to add on to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.
> 
> \------------------------  
> Update 6\14\20: Finally, I fixed the last of the grammar errors on this chapter.

Sunday, November 24, 2047  
Lebanon, Kansas

Hey, Mum,

It’s Danny and I found Sam’s letter to you. He hid it well, I’ll say. The reason I’m writing this is because I want to help you adjust back with us. He’ll be angry when he finds out that I read it and threw in my own letter under his, but he’ll get over it. You’ll want to hear more than just his thoughts on our lives. I’m not gonna tell Dad, Emma, or Dean about this little secret of his. I’ll write, too, since you’ll probably need something funny to read every once in and a while. Sammy’s serious all the time and he doesn’t even take a hint when me or Dean tell him to lighten up.

He spends all his energy on everything he told you earlier, but I’m not as helpless as I might seem. I’ve been training every morning on the weekend with my family with guns, knives, and fighting since I was seven. I hate waking up at what Sam calls an ‘ungodly hour,’ probably because he’s in a bad mood when he’s forced to deal with people, and he already told you about my back pain.

He’s been helping me learn the exorcism to banish a demon out of a human body and he taught me this other way of doing it. Learn the basic Latin words of the exorcism and study the roots of the word, then it gets easier. Sam and Dean are good at exorcisms and I don’t know how they can say the words correctly, let alone remember them. Dean thinks he’s smart enough for one of those ivy league colleges and even Emma agrees, but he’s not gonna stop hunting until he finds you. I wish we were a normal family and I was three when we were one, but my older siblings remember it.

Sammy and Emma remember normal life better than Dean, though, so they have more stories to tell me. My older sister has more of the dark humour stories while my brother has most of the serious ones. Doesn’t it sound kind of like a curse, Mum? It does to me because both can remember clearly what normal life is like enough to want it back more than Dean. I don’t even remember what you look like, and just because I’m younger than them, I’m not nearly as helpless as Sam makes me sounded like in his letter.

I’m thirteen, for Christ’s sake!

Like today’s Thanksgiving and it’s not an important one to us, but it’s enough for a meal that isn’t the same diner food repeatedly. He told you about the pizza he ordered us on his birthday, and we got Chinese take-out this time with most of the day off. For most families, isn’t it more like a luxury to them if neither of their parents (or whoever’s in charge) isn’t able to cook? It’s a luxury for us because we normally eat at diners at every stop we make for dinner because it’s cheaper with our type of life and Dad doesn’t always have cash for all of us to eat on.

We must use fake cards to pay for what we need and usually have a bit of cash on the side, so Dad must be careful on how much is spent. It’s wrong, like how Sam told you about how we must steal food and money sometimes, but we must get by somehow. I’ll hide this right under his, so I don’t get Dad in trouble. He’s not a bad guy, Mom, I promise. He does a lot of things that gets “CPS on his ass,” like Sam describes it. I don’t agree with him that it’s always for the better, though.

Why is it necessary for us to have to move schools every few weeks and live in motel rooms most of the year? Sam has an excuse for 95% of Dad’s decisions! If we must hunt, then why can’t we just stay and just do local jobs in Kansas City more often than travel around the country all the time? Uncle Steven lives an hour away in Lawrence and we could help him out more on the local hunts since he’s in his fifties or something. He could get hurt more often, but we don’t help him much because we’re too busy helping strangers everywhere else.

I don’t understand and not even my brother has a reason to defend it. Uncle Steven has told all four of us stories about the heroes Sam and Dean Winchester and my brother is named after the hero Sam. It gets even better because we’re from the same Winchester family tree as them, but no one’s seen them since they disappeared one day in 2020. Dad grew up around their time, but he never met them.

Uncle Steven worked with them, so that’s why he has so many stories. After hearing some of the stories, especially getting framed by shapeshifters and Leviathans for murders, I feel bad for Sammy and Dean. People know the names Sam and Dean Winchester from those crimes and those are my brother’s and trans brother’s names, so people usually are surprised or uncomfortable.

There’s been a few times when we were on a case when a hunter referred Dad to somebody they couldn’t help now, and it ended up being one of the assumed victims’ family members of the heroes Sam and Dean. I’ll tell you one that happened a month ago. One of Dad’s contacts called and told him about a poltergeist in a family’s house that he couldn’t do right then. It was an old house, so no wonder there was a poltergeist inside it.

Dad obviously jumped at the chance and we left Uncle Steven’s house in Lawrence to head out to New England. It’d be nice to go back to Germany, though.

Dad gave Emma the day off since she’d been sleeping terribly, so she stayed back with Uncle Steven, and that’s a rare luxury coming from him. I was excited that I could finally hunt a poltergeist. That’s why he already wasn’t happy in the first place, then we got there, and met up with the family. We arrived at the two-floor house in a rich neighborhood and Dad told us about the job.

He explained the couple we were helping had two kids and both women were nervous because of our last name. They still wanted our help because of the poltergeist, though, since we were the only hunters available to do it. We’re doing this job a bit differently. Dean, you’re with me taking care of the poltergeist,” Dad said in his usual drill sergeant voice, “Sam, you’re going to stay with Danny and cover the other side of the house in case it’s there. Got it, kids?”

I wish I could speak English as good as Dad and he doesn’t mix up past and present tenses like the four of us do. He’s had a lot more practise with English than any of us have.

“Yes, sir,” Sammy and Dean said in unison and I said it decently enough. I want to cut heads off vampires and all the other things they get to do! Both were almost thirteen, like I am, when Dad started taking them on tougher hunts.

Anyway, we arrived and one of the women let us in with a shaky smile.

“You must Klaus Winchester.” She said politely and Dad nodded yes. “Are these your kids?”

He smiled. “Yeah, my kids help me with cases.” He said. I noticed that her shaky smile started wane when he said that, and yeah, not just a lot of hunters think it’s not a good idea to raise kids in the hunting life. He’s a lot like Uncle John, if the stories are correct. Sam put on his ‘mask,’ as I call it as soon as we came in. It’s kind of hard to explain, but people wouldn’t want my brother’s help if they knew he doesn’t care and how much he really hates most people. My brother once said that 90% of humanity could burn off the face of the Earth, and he wouldn’t care less when he was pissed off one day. I know how doesn’t mean it, but yeah, I don’t know anyone else who hates humanity more than him.

He wouldn’t want to see it destroyed, I imagine, because he’s not like Lucifer, who the stories say wanted to destroy humanity because God commanded all of the angels to love us flawed people more than him. The point is that Sammy’s a damn good actor; He manipulates them into thinking he cares, but he doesn’t really care if they live or die. He only cares about family and I think he’s scared to get close to anybody else, but you’ll probably never hear him admit it.

“I’m Sam,” he introduced himself in his fake polite and caring voice.

The woman in front of froze in anxiety and she didn’t seem to know how to react. He couldn’t roll his eyes and give his annoyed ‘not again’ face. We call it his ‘bitch face’ and Uncle Steven said the hero Sam had a ‘bitch face,’ too.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked the woman as Dad sighed and seemed to be trying to think of what to say. “…Um, thank you for the concern, young man, I’m fine.” She said dismissively with a stoic look on her face, like she was trying to avoid talking about the heroes Sam and Dean. My brother keeps his birth gender a secret because a lot of older people had given her strange looks and some adults even used to ask Dad if he’s transgender when he was eight or nine. he’d started using an ironic one (and what Dad was gonna call her if he were born male): Dean.

Sammy broke an awkward silence once when Dean was caught off guard before he took up his male identity when she was about nine. I think he was seven or eight at the time. “You know, it’s offensive to ignore the name and pronouns Dean prefers now.” He said in it such a serious tone that the person just backed off. Strangely enough, that was just the first male name that came to his mind, and Dean liked it enough to start using it himself not long after.

I had a hard time not smiling or laughing.

Now, for the past six years, he lives as a guy; his height, lanky build, and lower voice aren't recognisable as female, given the years of puberty blockers and hormone treatment. He’s tried to tell people before she started identifying as male and they just thought he was lying about being born as a girl. I think just going with what he wants to called and allowing him to start transitioning to male when he was ten is Dad’s way of trying to make up for some of the things he did. It’s honestly the first time I ever saw him be lenient with one of us about something.

“I understand your discomfort with my older son’s name, but he’s not at all dangerous. He’s just a kid.” He explained with empathy in his voice.

The lady didn’t respond until her wife came in the living room. “Are the Winchester’s here? April, are you okay?” The other woman had long hair and blue eyes, then glanced at her wife. “Yeah.” April answered unconvincingly. Her wife glanced at the three of us. “I thought one of them was a girl.” She commented with a bit of disappointment in her tone, then looked over at Dad. “I had some old clothes I wanted to get rid of.”

“My daughter, Emma, is at home. She’s not feeling well. I can take them and give them to her.” He said with a smile. “I brought my sons with me. My oldest is Sam, my middle is Dean, and my youngest is Danny.” April seemed taken aback even more and she looked like she was about to faint, but Sammy caught on and grabbed her arm before she could fall.

“T-thank you,” she said gratefully as her wife came over and helped her on the couch.

“I’m Alex.” The blonde woman introduced herself. “I would’ve met you here instead of April if we knew your older sons’ names. My wife’s parents were murdered in a bank robbery by the mass murderers Sam and Dean Winchester when she was young.”

Sammy, of course, had to protest. He practically worships the hero he was named after and he corrects people on it every opportunity he gets. Dean’s almost as bad as him when it comes to that, and he seems to worship the hero Dean, but if he does, he keeps it to himself. Emma and I don’t worship the heroes Sam and Dean, but it’s probably because he was named after the hero Sam or adopted a male name, like Dean. It doesn’t seem healthy at all, if you ask me.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean any disrespect to what your wife’s been through at all, but monsters have gunned after my ancestors and did everything they could to make the heroes Sam and Dean look bad.” He said in his fake soft and concerned voice; he was probably holding back his anger (like he usually is). “My brother and I are named after heroes who save the world more than once from being destroyed. It’s not your fault neither of you knew the truth.”

Dad had an exasperated look on his face, and he does when Sam doesn’t push back his urges to correct people, and he doesn’t hold himself back very often on that topic. He’s tried to make Sam understand social boundaries for years, and Sammy just doesn’t care if it doesn’t jeopardize the case. My brother knows it’s not socially acceptable to correct people like that, but he doesn’t care about their pain.

All he really seems to care about is making sure they know the heroes Sam and Dean are innocent of all of things they were framed for, and my second oldest brother naturally follows his lead on this. After all, he appointed himself as the protector of the Winchester legacy and he obviously cares more about it than a stranger’s feelings. It’s all about masking it up with a soft voice and pretending to care about them while driving his point across.

“Sam, there’s a time and place for everything, and correcting this woman who’s been through a lot right now is not the right time.” He said in warning tone. “Control yourself.”

He was quiet and nodded in faux understanding.

He gets brownie points for every person he helps save and it helps him improve his image as a sensitive and selfless guy to the people we help. It sells damn well, too, Mum. It’d be kind of hard for them to believe that the most emphatic and kind hunter helping them is the one who couldn’t give less of a crap about them. He really doesn’t get it, though, because other people’s boundaries are something, he doesn’t understand the reason for at all.

It’s weird, too, because he likes to have a ton of personal space for himself. Emma thinks of him as a “borderline sociopath with morals.”

Sammy knows it’s a social cue and that’s how we blend in, but other than that, he doesn’t get the point. I’d seen him read books on all of kinds of psychology and especially why people feel the need to help others without any personal gain. Dad knows too well how much he lost most of his emotions and understanding the concepts of them. Like empathy and sympathy for people he doesn’t know for example, and why he should care if civilians live or die while we’re working a case. He hasn’t stopped looking for the cure to fix my brother’s soul.

Anyways, I don’t want to do all the talking and let Sam talk, too. Other than that interruption, things resumed calmly, and we got to hunting down this poltergeist.  
Guess what? It felt so good to shoot a bullet full of rock salt at the thing and I got to throw the match to burn the body’s remains. No wonder Sam and Dean like killing so much! It’s better than writing in a notebook.

Talk to you later,

_Danny_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think?


	4. Chapter 3\Letter 3 - Sam's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.

Wednesday, December 25, 2047  
Lawrence, Kansas

Hey, Hanna,

You probably already read Danny’s letter and I knew he’d find my first letter, but I didn’t expect him to write one. I found out right before Dad got notified of my chemistry teacher’s intention to throw me out of the class a few days later and he was pissed at her for it. She wanted to send me over to the remedial chemistry class and convinced the principal that I’m not a ‘stressed out science prodigy.’ Apparently, she said I’d been ‘wrongly given special treatment.’

Dad, Emma, and I hadn’t finished the job yet, so he decided to call Steven and tell them that Dean, Danny, and I were heading back up to Lawrence in my car. Dean should be able to drive without completing that stupid driver’s ed class as he already has his permit. He took Dean and I out of the school and re-enrolled us at Lawrence High and Danny back in Southwest Middle School.

Thankfully, it’s only a ten-minute distance between both of our schools when we’re staying with Steven. Dad made the right call since it’d been a calm drive back to Steven’s and I argued with Danny over some of the things he exaggerated about me after we got back to his place. Steven was worried that we’d tear up his house with how pissed I was over the bullshit he wrote.

I don’t worship the hero Sam and I don’t make excuses for Dad’s crap! He forgot to wrote down that I stand up to him when I need to, but he made me look like a religious nut soldier. Plus, where does he get the impression that my second youngest brother seems to worship the hero Dean? He’s telling the truth about everything, but he’s got it all wrong.

Seriously, I know he’s thirteen, but where did he get the part about me worshiping the hero Sam? I’m protecting a legacy and I can’t let the hero Sam’s name get dragged through the mud, especially with how my personality is. People we help on cases would think he’s a heartless psycho with bad genetics if I let myself work on them as myself. That’s what Danny doesn’t get about it and he thinks it’s worship when it’s obviously not even close to worship.

He’s not named after a hero whose name has been torn to shreds in the public eye and he doesn’t understand what I’m going through.

Anyhow, Steven stepped in and suggested that we both write her letters and allow her to see both of our viewpoints on our lives as a compromise. He and I agreed to that, Hanna, but I’m not gonna let him convince you of shit that he exaggerates! Now, that’s explained, I can tell you why I haven’t written back in a month. Things have been terrible lately with avoiding summer school and Steven convinced Dad to let me and Danny stay here in Lawrence until Christmas break for me to catch up on my schoolwork not long after they got back from Lebanon.

Steven took my younger brothers and I on local cases while my focus was more than less getting my grades up. I’ve succeeded in that part since even the teachers who never liked me have expressed their appreciation in receiving my homework done and on time for once. Well, you’ve seen how we celebrate birthdays and Thanksgiving, and Christmas is pretty much on the same par as birthdays.

Dad hasn’t been around for Christmas for the past ten years and it’s a more painful reminder.

You love Christmas, so it’s tense and depressing without you around to celebrate. All I want to do is kill the demon who ripped you away from us and destroyed our lives.  
They wanted me, Hanna, and they didn’t care who suffered when they tried to get me twice. There’s no telling when they’ll try again, and I’ll remember the second attempt for the rest of my life. There’s no forgetting it.

Dad remembers it clearly, but he eventually found out that a few years after it happened that a demon killed my birth mum and her parents back in 2030 when they were watching TV while Emma and I were in the nursery. It’d be nice if the story ended there and the rest of it went along like a Full House episode, but Winchesters can’t have nice things. You know the same demon caused the fire and Dad finally believed his twin brother, Blaise, about it when Emma and I were three. The bastard tried to do the same to Emma until Dad came in to grab us and get us out of there.

They ruled the fire as an accident caused by ‘faulty wiring.’

The demon fed me its blood (and a few others) because the higher-ups revamped an old plan the yellow-eyed demon Azazel intended for the hero Sam back when he was born in 1983. Yellow Eyes wanted to the hero Sam to lead a demon army in order to release Lucifer and that’s what they want me to do. They called the hero Sam the Boy King and they call me the Progenitor King. Whoever came up with the ‘title’ for me deserves a promotion for originality, though.

They honestly think I’ll go along with their plans and use the power the hero Sam once held because I lack half of my soul, and just because I hate most of humanity doesn’t mean I want Lucifer to destroy it, if the bastard is even still alive. Were they the ones behind corrupting my soul as well, so I’ll be more susceptible to going along with their plan?

My motto is generally ‘if the hero Sam wouldn’t do it, then I won’t’ in most cases. I don’t want to hurt my family and disgrace his name as much as tempting the large amount of power would be. Personally, I don’t want power because I know how much it’d corrupt me and the demon said I’m more vulnerable to temptation than my predecessor. I wish I were as selfless as the hero I was named after. My desires are nothing short of unethical, selfish, and contrary for what the hero Sam stood for.

Today, Steven’s tried to lift our moods, especially because you’re not here and Dad’s out hunting like a madman just like about every year. Emma stayed with him, and this is the first Christmas in at least three years that I hadn’t hunted with him. When I say she ‘stayed,’ I mean as him leaving her alone in whatever motel he’s at with some money for food the whole time. That’s what I’m used to doing during the holidays, anyways.

He took Dean, Danny, and I out to Bob Evans for lunch and we hardly ever get to eat at somewhere nice (at least for our low standards). We were sitting on the bench for about an hour waiting and then there’d been this couple with a little girl that came in. They were all dressed up and the man had a pristine blue suit and neat black tie in place, plus he was three inches shorter than me. The woman sitting next to him had chin length red hair and my black hair’s almost at my shoulder’s. She had a light purple dress with white heels. She was attractive, even though I’m seventeen and she must have been in her mid-twenties.

The little girl looked about six or seven and had a white and pink floral dress with some kind of light brown slip on shoes. I noticed her frown right away when they came in and I’ve had that disappointed look before. I’d noticed it on Dean and Danny when they were first getting adjusted into training when they were seven. I wondered why the girl had such a defeated look.

I had one when I was young because I wasn’t going to be going on any hunts with Dad until I could shoot a gun properly when I was eight. It was the same my younger brothers, also eager to take part in the family business, and I taught them tricks that I learned to help them make progress faster. It’s weird I can’t give much of a crap about anybody who isn’t family, but seeing kids sad or suffering makes me feel sympathy toward them (is that the right word for it?). The girl was probably upset over a normal reason a little kid would be.

“I told you we should have made reservations at somewhere nicer!” The woman whispered loudly in anger at her husband, who just shook his head and said nothing in response. “Now, look at where we’re eating!”

I could tell as I looked over at my younger siblings and it’s clear they didn’t understand how a restaurant like this could be considered cheap. We’re used to living off diner food, so pizza or Chinese take-out are considered luxuries to us. I felt baffled, too, honestly. We rarely ever to eat at any sit down restaurant that doesn’t serve greasy diner food.

Steven gave a sympathetic look over at the three of us. He didn’t get into hunting until he was already an adult and he’d grown up in a middle-class family where eating at this sort of place was a substitute for dinner when one of his parents weren’t cooking dinner. He’d told us that we shouldn’t have had to grow up the way we have, but how could I when I’m the Progenitor? I’d been in the mist of this crossfire before any of us knew it since I was six months old. If only we could go back to Germany and live a life free of demons.

“Sherry, people are staring! Shut up.” The man whispered back in embarrassment as the family sat down. “Let’s just make this one Christmas good. Please.”

“It would have if you called and made plans over at Culinaria instead of wasting time on that stupid project of yours, Bruce.” She whispered, more like hissed, back at him. “We have enough to cook at home instead of waiting around here.” Bruce seemed to be hiding his pissed off he appeared to be, and the little girl shrank back in the seat with a phone in her hand.

I groaned in annoyance.

“Was für ein verdammt er Heuchert.” I muttered under my breath.

(“What a fucking hypocrite.”)

“Sind die meisten nicht Heuchera?” He muttered back with smirk toward me. Steven sighed when the woman shot specifically me a dirty look. I shrugged my shoulders and shown her that I didn’t want to hear her annoying complaints.

(“Aren’t most people hypocrites?”)

Dean was quiet, as expected, as he lifted his eyes from his English copy of “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by Mark Twain for a moment. If there’s one thing about my brother you should know, he always has a book with him in either English or German.

“Sammy, kannst du mich daran erinnern, online nach Goethes Faust zu suchen?” He asked, looking over at me and successfully breaking the tension.

(“Sammy, can you remind me to check online for Goethe’s Faust?”)

“Englisch oder Deutsch? Sie haben die englische Übersetzung bereits gelesen, denke ich.” I answered, already knowing that it was a distraction question, as he read through the English version a couple of months ago. “Deutsch. Hoffentlich wird die erste Aufgabe online sein.” He replied.

(“English or German? You’ve already read through the English translation, I think.”)

(“German. Hopefully, the first edition will be online.”)

“What is that language, German? This is America!” Sherry ranted in a quieter, yet still loud voice to the man next to her. “Don’t insult those kids.” Bruce whispered back in embarrassment. “Please stop drawing attention to us.” I hoped that he could shut her up and things were quiet for a few minutes. Steven, Danny, and I resorted to using our phones to pass the time quicker, and hell broke loose as soon as his last name was called.

“Finally,” Danny said in relief after we got up and began to follow the waitress. I heard a loud and frustrated groan from behind us, and I glanced back to see that bitch open her mouth. “They were here before us, Sherry.” The man next to her said angrily and he’d been embarrassed to hell and back, it seemed. I wanted to thank him for shutting her up for the moment.

I turned around once more to follow the waitress, who I just realised was in my chemistry class, and gets along with me. Just then, I heard another complaint from that annoying lady. Danny says I complain a lot, but I’m not obnoxious and rude like her. The hero Sam wouldn’t approve if I made everyone miserable like that on cases and I keep my complaints away from the public in general. I don’t like receiving attention, but this lady sure did seem to like attention.

“Miss,” the woman said in obviously faux polite tone as she stood up and walked past us toward the waitress, “I understand you’re busy, but did you see those three foreign boys’ rude behavior earlier and how inconsiderate they were to my family and I?” I rolled my eyes and scoffed as she gestured over to my younger brothers and me. They weren’t amused either and Danny appeared to be holding back from speaking up while Dean was as stoic as usual since the bitch didn’t seem like a threat to our safety.

“I didn’t see anything out of line,” Lizzie said honestly, and she looked sympathetically at me. “Sam and his brothers weren’t doing anything wrong. Plus, my friend wouldn’t be rude or inconsiderate to somebody he doesn’t know for no reason.” The look on Sherry’s face was priceless with horror. Did she really think that lying about my siblings and I would go in her favour?

Bruce was exasperated as he comforted the little girl as she started crying. That’s when the manager came out and he told Lizzie to get us to our table, and he’d handle the bitch. “Why does fate like bringing you two so many problems, Sam and Dean Winchester?” Lizzie teased Dean and I with a grin as she brought us to a table. People started to glance stares of shock or surprise over at the mention of our names.

“It’s probably because who I’m named after.” I answered half-truthfully.  
“I think the same in my case.” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, your ancestors’ ghosts might be haunting you.” She joked as Danny and I sat next to each other while Steven and Dean sat on the opposite end of the table.  
“I wish it is that easy,” I commented as she sat down the menus. The hero Sam would never haunt me anyways, even if he were a ghost, and the hero Dean would never haunt my second youngest brother.

“I’ll be right back to your drinks,” She said as Danny laughed, then headed off with a teasing smile and a wink toward me. My brother went back to reading her book. “She likes you, Sammy,” He said with his shit eating grin as the stares went away. “No, she’s a friend.” I argued back with annoyance.

“Yeah, she does!”  
“No, she doesn’t.”  
“Yeah, she does!”  
“Can you be anymore full of—”

“Boys,” Steven spoke up with a slightly firm tone, “you’re being childish and we’re in public. Can you save the argument for after we get home?” Danny and I happened to nod in unison. I didn’t want to argue with him after he went through all the trouble of taking us here and doing his best to make this a good day for us, so I shut my mouth. People were probably staring at our arguing anyways, but when I get into one with Danny, I forget what’s even going on around me.

I don’t want to take up too much paper and I’ll leave you with a positive note, Hanna. Steven, my brothers, and I had a nice lunch and after that, he took us to the movies.  
I told him that he didn’t need to do anything for us and even my younger brothers spoke up and told him we were grateful just to be able to sit at his house and relax. Well, our surrogate uncle wouldn’t no for an answer, and all three of us agreed on seeing the new Back to the Future reboot.

It wasn’t anywhere near as good as the 1985 original and I made sure Danny saw it on Hulu TV at Steven’s first. Dean had seen it a few years ago as I did the same with him to make sure he knows what not to miss out on. Usually, older people are surprised that I’m familiar and have seen a lot of older movies from the 1980s, even hearing an occasional movie reference from me. We don’t really get to see many modern movies as they’re usually either to pay to rent or buy.

Well, thankfully, there’s free movies on motel pay-per-view sometimes. The modern movies are hardly ever on any free pay-per-view networks at most motels, and the ones we do watch are free on Netflix, Hulu, and free movie channels on cable whenever we’re at Kyle’s or Steven’s. I feel bad for people seeing the reboot without seeing the original, especially after hearing a kid around Danny’s age say, “Wait, this is a reboot?” That’s just sad. I hope more kids are educated on what good movies are when we get you back.

Your son,

 _Sam_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? How do you think NG (next generation) Sam had his soul corrupted?
> 
> How different are NG Sam and Dean from their predecessors?


	5. Chapter 4\Letter 4 - Danny's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: After some background on these Winchester's lives, NG Dean has had it tougher than his siblings. 
> 
> Now: There's been a demon sighting, and if Klaus isn't any farther from a Father of the Year award in the past three chapters, just see this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them. 
> 
> This chapter does go into transgender rights issues and how futuristic law has to respect one's gender identity, and it goes more into detail about the initial legal process NG Dean had went through to be recognized as male. There is very mention of futuristic legal policies regarding it. There is mention of lingering intolerance and NG Sam's concern for NG Dean, given the younger's gender identity
> 
> On a lighter, can you spot the Legacies reference?
> 
> \---------  
> Update 6\14\20: Finally fixed all of the grammar errors. Hopefully, I got them all this time.

Wednesday, January 1, 2048  
Montgomery, Alabama

Hey, Hanna,

You probably already read Danny’s letter and I knew he’d find my first letter, but I didn’t expect him to write one. I found out right before Dad got notified of my chemistry teacher’s intention to throw me out of the class a few days later and he was pissed at her for it. She wanted to send me over to the remedial chemistry class and convinced the principal that I’m not a ‘stressed out science prodigy.’ Apparently, she said I’d been ‘wrongly given special treatment.’

Dad, Emma, and I hadn’t finished the job yet, so he decided to call Steven and tell them that Dean, Danny, and I were heading back up to Lawrence in my car. Dean should be able to drive without completing that stupid driver’s ed class as he already has his permit. He took Dean and I out of the school and re-enrolled us at Lawrence High and Danny back in Southwest Middle School.

Thankfully, it’s only a ten-minute distance between both of our schools when we’re staying with Steven. Dad made the right call since it’d been a calm drive back to Steven’s and I argued with Danny over some of the things he exaggerated about me after we got back to his place. Steven was worried that we’d tear up his house with how pissed I was over the bullshit he wrote.

I don’t worship the hero Sam and I don’t make excuses for Dad’s crap! He forgot to wrote down that I stand up to him when I need to, but he made me look like a religious nut soldier. Plus, where does he get the impression that my second youngest brother seems to worship the hero Dean? He’s telling the truth about everything, but he’s got it all wrong.

Seriously, I know he’s thirteen, but where did he get the part about me worshiping the hero Sam? I’m protecting a legacy and I can’t let the hero Sam’s name get dragged through the mud, especially with how my personality is. People we help on cases would think he’s a heartless psycho with bad genetics if I let myself work on them as myself. That’s what Danny doesn’t get about it and he thinks it’s worship when it’s obviously not even close to worship.

He’s not named after a hero whose name has been torn to shreds in the public eye and he doesn’t understand what I’m going through.

Anyhow, Steven stepped in and suggested that we both write her letters and allow her to see both of our viewpoints on our lives as a compromise. He and I agreed to that, Hanna, but I’m not gonna let him convince you of shit that he exaggerates! Now, that’s explained, I can tell you why I haven’t written back in a month. Things have been terrible lately with avoiding summer school and Steven convinced Dad to let me and Danny stay here in Lawrence until Christmas break for me to catch up on my schoolwork not long after they got back from Lebanon.

Steven took my younger brothers and I on local cases while my focus was more than less getting my grades up. I’ve succeeded in that part since even the teachers who never liked me have expressed their appreciation in receiving my homework done and on time for once. Well, you’ve seen how we celebrate birthdays and Thanksgiving, and Christmas is pretty much on the same par as birthdays.

Dad hasn’t been around for Christmas for the past ten years and it’s a more painful reminder.

You love Christmas, so it’s tense and depressing without you around to celebrate. All I want to do is kill the demon who ripped you away from us and destroyed our lives.  
They wanted me, Hanna, and they didn’t care who suffered when they tried to get me twice. There’s no telling when they’ll try again, and I’ll remember the second attempt for the rest of my life. There’s no forgetting it.

Dad remembers it clearly, but he eventually found out that a few years after it happened that a demon killed my birth mum and her parents back in 2030 when they were watching TV while Emma and I were in the nursery. It’d be nice if the story ended there and the rest of it went along like a Full House episode, but Winchesters can’t have nice things. You know the same demon caused the fire and Dad finally believed his twin brother, Blaise, about it when Emma and I were three. The bastard tried to do the same to Emma until Dad came in to grab us and get us out of there.

They ruled the fire as an accident caused by ‘faulty wiring.’

The demon fed me its blood (and a few others) because the higher-ups revamped an old plan the yellow-eyed demon Azazel intended for the hero Sam back when he was born in 1983. Yellow Eyes wanted to the hero Sam to lead a demon army in order to release Lucifer and that’s what they want me to do. They called the hero Sam the Boy King and they call me the Progenitor King. Whoever came up with the ‘title’ for me deserves a promotion for originality, though.

They honestly think I’ll go along with their plans and use the power the hero Sam once held because I lack half of my soul, and just because I hate most of humanity doesn’t mean I want Lucifer to destroy it, if the bastard is even still alive. Were they the ones behind corrupting my soul as well, so I’ll be more susceptible to going along with their plan?

My motto is generally ‘if the hero Sam wouldn’t do it, then I won’t’ in most cases. I don’t want to hurt my family and disgrace his name as much as tempting the large amount of power would be. Personally, I don’t want power because I know how much it’d corrupt me and the demon said I’m more vulnerable to temptation than my predecessor. I wish I were as selfless as the hero I was named after. My desires are nothing short of unethical, selfish, and contrary for what the hero Sam stood for.

Today, Steven’s tried to lift our moods, especially because you’re not here and Dad’s out hunting like a madman just like about every year. Emma stayed with him, and this is the first Christmas in at least three years that I hadn’t hunted with him. When I say she ‘stayed,’ I mean as him leaving her alone in whatever motel he’s at with some money for food the whole time. That’s what I’m used to doing during the holidays, anyways.

He took Dean, Danny, and I out to Bob Evans for lunch and we hardly ever get to eat at somewhere nice (at least for our low standards). We were sitting on the bench for about an hour waiting and then there’d been this couple with a little girl that came in. They were all dressed up and the man had a pristine blue suit and neat black tie in place, plus he was three inches shorter than me. The woman sitting next to him had chin length red hair and my black hair’s almost at my shoulder’s. She had a light purple dress with white heels. She was attractive, even though I’m seventeen and she must have been in her mid-twenties.

The little girl looked about six or seven and had a white and pink floral dress with some kind of light brown slip on shoes. I noticed her frown right away when they came in and I’ve had that disappointed look before. I’d noticed it on Dean and Danny when they were first getting adjusted into training when they were seven. I wondered why the girl had such a defeated look.

I had one when I was young because I wasn’t going to be going on any hunts with Dad until I could shoot a gun properly when I was eight. It was the same my younger brothers, also eager to take part in the family business, and I taught them tricks that I learned to help them make progress faster. It’s weird I can’t give much of a crap about anybody who isn’t family, but seeing kids sad or suffering makes me feel sympathy toward them (is that the right word for it?). The girl was probably upset over a normal reason a little kid would be.

“I told you we should have made reservations at somewhere nicer!” The woman whispered loudly in anger at her husband, who just shook his head and said nothing in response. “Now, look at where we’re eating!”

I could tell as I looked over at my younger siblings and it’s clear they didn’t understand how a restaurant like this could be considered cheap. We’re used to living off diner food, so pizza or Chinese take-out are considered luxuries to us. I felt baffled, too, honestly. We rarely ever to eat at any sit down restaurant that doesn’t serve greasy diner food.

Steven gave a sympathetic look over at the three of us. He didn’t get into hunting until he was already an adult and he’d grown up in a middle-class family where eating at this sort of place was a substitute for dinner when one of his parents weren’t cooking dinner. He’d told us that we shouldn’t have had to grow up the way we have, but how could I when I’m the Progenitor? I’d been in the mist of this crossfire before any of us knew it since I was six months old. If only we could go back to Germany and live a life free of demons.

“Sherry, people are staring! Shut up.” The man whispered back in embarrassment as the family sat down. “Let’s just make this one Christmas good. Please.”

“It would have if you called and made plans over at Culinaria instead of wasting time on that stupid project of yours, Bruce.” She whispered, more like hissed, back at him. “We have enough to cook at home instead of waiting around here.” Bruce seemed to be hiding his pissed off he appeared to be, and the little girl shrank back in the seat with a phone in her hand.

I groaned in annoyance.

“Was für ein verdammt er Heuchert.” I muttered under my breath.

(“What a fucking hypocrite.”)

“Sind die meisten nicht Heuchera?” He muttered back with smirk toward me. Steven sighed when the woman shot specifically me a dirty look. I shrugged my shoulders and shown her that I didn’t want to hear her annoying complaints.

(“Aren’t most people hypocrites?”)

Dean was quiet, as expected, as he lifted his eyes from his English copy of “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by Mark Twain for a moment. If there’s one thing about my brother you should know, he always has a book with him in either English or German.

“Sammy, kannst du mich daran erinnern, online nach Goethes Faust zu suchen?” He asked, looking over at me and successfully breaking the tension.

(“Sammy, can you remind me to check online for Goethe’s Faust?”)

“Englisch oder Deutsch? Sie haben die englische Übersetzung bereits gelesen, denke ich.” I answered, already knowing that it was a distraction question, as he read through the English version a couple of months ago. “Deutsch. Hoffentlich wird die erste Aufgabe online sein.” He replied.

(“English or German? You’ve already read through the English translation, I think.”)

(“German. Hopefully, the first edition will be online.”)

“What is that language, German? This is America!” Sherry ranted in a quieter, yet still loud voice to the man next to her. “Don’t insult those kids.” Bruce whispered back in embarrassment. “Please stop drawing attention to us.” I hoped that he could shut her up and things were quiet for a few minutes. Steven, Danny, and I resorted to using our phones to pass the time quicker, and hell broke loose as soon as his last name was called.

“Finally,” Danny said in relief after we got up and began to follow the waitress. I heard a loud and frustrated groan from behind us, and I glanced back to see that bitch open her mouth. “They were here before us, Sherry.” The man next to her said angrily and he’d been embarrassed to hell and back, it seemed. I wanted to thank him for shutting her up for the moment.

I turned around once more to follow the waitress, who I just realised was in my chemistry class, and gets along with me. Just then, I heard another complaint from that annoying lady. Danny says I complain a lot, but I’m not obnoxious and rude like her. The hero Sam wouldn’t approve if I made everyone miserable like that on cases and I keep my complaints away from the public in general. I don’t like receiving attention, but this lady sure did seem to like attention.

“Miss,” the woman said in obviously faux polite tone as she stood up and walked past us toward the waitress, “I understand you’re busy, but did you see those three foreign boys’ rude behavior earlier and how inconsiderate they were to my family and I?” I rolled my eyes and scoffed as she gestured over to my younger brothers and me. They weren’t amused either and Danny appeared to be holding back from speaking up while Dean was as stoic as usual since the bitch didn’t seem like a threat to our safety.

“I didn’t see anything out of line,” Lizzie said honestly, and she looked sympathetically at me. “Sam and his brothers weren’t doing anything wrong. Plus, my friend wouldn’t be rude or inconsiderate to somebody he doesn’t know for no reason.” The look on Sherry’s face was priceless with horror. Did she really think that lying about my siblings and I would go in her favour?

Bruce was exasperated as he comforted the little girl as she started crying. That’s when the manager came out and he told Lizzie to get us to our table, and he’d handle the bitch. “Why does fate like bringing you two so many problems, Sam and Dean Winchester?” Lizzie teased Dean and I with a grin as she brought us to a table. People started to glance stares of shock or surprise over at the mention of our names.

“It’s probably because who I’m named after.” I answered half-truthfully.  
“I think the same in my case.” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, your ancestors’ ghosts might be haunting you.” She joked as Danny and I sat next to each other while Steven and Dean sat on the opposite end of the table.  
“I wish it is that easy,” I commented as she sat down the menus. The hero Sam would never haunt me anyways, even if he were a ghost, and the hero Dean would never haunt my second youngest brother.

“I’ll be right back to your drinks,” She said as Danny laughed, then headed off with a teasing smile and a wink toward me. My brother went back to reading her book. “She likes you, Sammy,” He said with his shit eating grin as the stares went away. “No, she’s a friend.” I argued back with annoyance.

“Yeah, she does!”  
“No, she doesn’t.”  
“Yeah, she does!”  
“Can you be anymore full of—”

“Boys,” Steven spoke up with a slightly firm tone, “you’re being childish and we’re in public. Can you save the argument for after we get home?” Danny and I happened to nod in unison. I didn’t want to argue with him after he went through all the trouble of taking us here and doing his best to make this a good day for us, so I shut my mouth. People were probably staring at our arguing anyways, but when I get into one with Danny, I forget what’s even going on around me.

I don’t want to take up too much paper and I’ll leave you with a positive note, Hanna. Steven, my brothers, and I had a nice lunch and after that, he took us to the movies.  
I told him that he didn’t need to do anything for us and even my younger brothers spoke up and told him we were grateful just to be able to sit at his house and relax. Well, our surrogate uncle wouldn’t no for an answer, and all three of us agreed on seeing the new Back to the Future reboot.

It wasn’t anywhere near as good as the 1985 original and I made sure Danny saw it on Hulu TV at Steven’s first. Dean had seen it a few years ago as I did the same with him to make sure he knows what not to miss out on. Usually, older people are surprised that I’m familiar and have seen a lot of older movies from the 1980s, even hearing an occasional movie reference from me. We don’t really get to see many modern movies as they’re usually either to pay to rent or buy.

Well, thankfully, there’s free movies on motel pay-per-view sometimes. The modern movies are hardly ever on any free pay-per-view networks at most motels, and the ones we do watch are free on Netflix, Hulu, and free movie channels on cable whenever we’re at Kyle’s or Steven’s. I feel bad for people seeing the reboot without seeing the original, especially after hearing a kid around Danny’s age say, “Wait, this is a reboot?” That’s just sad. I hope more kids are educated on what good movies are when we get you back.

Your son,

_Sam_

Hey, Mum,

All we’ve seemed to be write to you on holidays and big things. That’s when me and Sam ever have time to write because Dad gives us a break and you haven’t seen a regular day is like for us. It’s sort of been a regular day. We’re in Montgomery, Alabama, and it’s weird because Dad says that working cases in city capitals can get hunters more attention than in other places. He said it’s a demon case, so exceptions must be made sometimes.

He picked Sam, Dean, and I up three days after Christmas and we headed down here heavy in the Bible Belt. My oldest brother likes the South (minus the whole religious nut culture, obviously), but I hate the South. It’s too hot in the summer and there’s way more bugs. Dean hates it down here, too. It’s because he’s trans, but it’s not like much of anybody knows about it. Most people don’t know Sammy’s pansexual either.

His preferred name and pronouns are listed on his record. Some states only require staff who control student enrollment to know a transgender kids’ birth name and pronouns, unless a parent consents to letting the teachers know about it. Most of the Southern states require all staff to know the kid’s gender assigned at birth and to protect them from harassment since intolerance is still around in different states. Fortunately, Dean looks and sounds like a guy thanks all the puberty blockers and hormones, so no one usually even suspects that he was born female.

It’d be obviously illegal if any school in the States doesn’t provide a gender-neutral bathroom, locker room, or respect the rights of LGBT+ people, meaning they have to use any name or preferred pronouns listed on the kid’s school record. If their gender identity, preferred name, and pronouns are listed on the permanent record, then it’s valid. If not, whoever is acting as the parent must schedule an appointment with the school district psychiatrist and they’re the ones who give the okay. Dean got the okay on the same day he came in when he was nine.

The one Dad took him to back home in Kansas City didn’t even recognise Dean’s birth gender until he looked at his info and his birth certificate. He was caught off guard when my older brother came into the office, and honestly thought him and Dad went into the wrong room. A lot of people are saying that it’s denying a lot of kids who feel transgender (or non-binary) their rights. The doctor said Dean has gender dysphoria and recommended that he see a therapist in the same hospital, which my brother does about once per month. Alongside that and him starting his male transition six years ago, we all can tell he’s feeling better about himself, even Dad probably notices if he’s not ditching us to go on a hunt or on a bender. It’s usually either one, if not chasing a lead on the demon who took you.

Sam really worries about Dean in the South and he’s been suspended a few times for starting a fight when a few guys provoked him. Dad usually takes us in and out of the public schools in Kansas City and Lawrence, so my older brothers’ have a reputation of being close and protective of each other. Sammy’s protective of all of us, but it’s different with Dean, I don’t know how to explain it other than saying Sammy’s seen Dad put Dean through hell in training and seen Dad yell at him more than the rest of us. Dad doesn’t care about our mixed feelings about the places we go because we’re gonna be going to places we won’t like for the people we help among other things parents should care about.

He doesn’t care about us having to transfer schools God knows how many times a year, whether we get good grades or not, and or making Sammy take his fucking Lithium as long as it doesn’t get us under CPS’s radar again. My oldest brother’s manic episodes were at least under control when he was still on Lithium, and he wasn’t as irritable and moody as he is without it. Dad doesn’t make him go to therapy anymore either, so he’s not around when Sammy’s episodes are at their worst.

Sam and Dean wanted on the case immediately once he said it’s a demon case and Emma had a hopeful look on her face. I was both nervous and excited that we could finally get you back, and Dad might actually be a parent instead of our drill sergeant for once. No wonder we came here and risked getting caught since saving you is more important than that. “Is it the demon who took Hanna?” My oldest brother asked him in a serious and venomous tone.

He’ll kill anything standing in the way of getting in your rescue, Mum. That’s how serious he is when it comes getting you back.

“I’m not sure yet, Sam. You and Dean are coming with me to scout the area, so you’re going to show him how to hunt a demon.” Dad answered slightly uneasily, but firmly tone. “You can’t afford to hunt this demon with only revenge on your mind, understood? You need to show your brother how to hunt one. Got it, Dean?” Sam didn’t respond and I could see his eyes from the back mirror that he was ready to kill anything in sight right then while Dean gave the usual ‘yes, sir.’ Emma calls him a loyal attack dog, but she’s wrong on one part: if he wants something badly enough or sees Dad harm one of us, he’s not afraid to stand up to Dad, especially if it concerns the three of us.

“There are consequences for everything you do, Sam, and if you’re not careful—” Dad started to get firmer in his uneasiness, and I think he’s a bit afraid of Sammy when he’s angry like this. My brother’s dangerous when he’s this pissed off, especially regarding the demon. Sammy thinks about revenge a lot, but he prioritizes saving your life more. Dad doesn’t make getting revenge on the demon a priority, he just wants you back and it really irritates Sammy that Dad assumes he’d rather kill the demon than consider his own life, if my brother knew he’d die doing it.

“I know, Dad, I could get killed or someone else could get killed. Do you honestly think I’d put Dean’s life in danger and forsake Hanna just to kill that bastard?!” He mouthed back harshly with a cold gray glare. “I’m going to teach Dean how to hunt a demon and I’ll find out how to kill that son of bitch! He stole Hanna and he’s gonna suffer until he’s begging me to exorcise him back to Hell.”

Oh yeah, Mum, did you know that he’s Hyde-born?

Emma and Dean told me you saw his eyes change colors for a couple of seconds and you knew how to calm him down. A lot of people know Hyde-borns as ‘transgenics’ because of their modified DNA back and it descends from Dr. Henry Jekyll’s ancestors who recreated his experiment, who was a real person. A lot of hunters think they’re a myth, and usually people think of Robert Louis Stevenson’s novella when it comes to Jekyll’s and Hyde’s, assuming all of it is fiction. I don’t know how much about it, but Sam has two sets of eyes and can act quicker since there’s his evil half locked inside of him. The demon blood prevents him from having transformations and he calls himself a ‘tribrid.’ He says he’s not fully human, nor is he fully demon, or fully Hyde-born. My oldest brother is more human than he gives himself credit for, even if his claim that he’s the ‘only one of his kind.’

I’ve heard him call himself a freak more than I can count, too, and I don’t get why he hates himself so much. His birth mum was Hyde-born, and I consider Hyde-born’s pretty much human, personally. He thinks it’s supernatural, since he’s got a few badass powers, but he’s more human than not from what I can tell. It must make hunting easier with two sets of eyes, extra strength, and extra speed, especially if it’s a demon hunt. Speaking of which, my brother’s mouth can get him kicked off cases if he pisses Dad off badly enough.

“I mean it, Sam, or you’re off the case. I can’t have you risking your life when you’re too blind to think. How many times have I told you that hunting isn’t about revenge?” He threatened with his exasperated look and my brother’s glare hardened as his voice was loud with exasperation and stressed. “I know you would never put Dean in danger, or give up saving your mother’s life, but you don’t see the problem with disregarding your own life. Your siblings need you, your mum needs you, and don’t ever forget I need you! I already lost Fiona and your mum, and I’m not about to lose one of my kids, too. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” he said reluctantly in a surprisingly decent tone.

“Thank you,” Dad said in a relieved tone, but he was still peeved, and it was quiet the rest of the way to dropping me off at the middle school. I wish we could move back to Germany where we fit in. I’ll be in the high school next year, but then Sammy will give me the third degree about anything he thinks is out of place if Dean isn’t around me as a witness. Sam will interrogate me, too, even if I have a single scratch on my arm after school, and demand to know who did it.

God, he’s so overprotective, it drives me insane! It drives all three of us insane, especially me and Dean. It’s obviously Dad’s fault because if he hadn’t told Sam that it’s his job to watch out for Emma and take care of me and Dean, he’d be closer to an average teenage guy. Of course, he’ll threaten whoever would bother me and he’s done that countless times with me, Emma, and Dean. My older sister hasn’t been nearly as attentive as him and she’s more concerned with fitting in and doing other normal things when we’re not hunting, so Dad backed off mostly and he’s shoved all her responsibilities on Sam and Dean!

Why the hell does she get a free pass?  
Is it because of her puberty thing?  
Does Dad feel bad for her?

Dean’s probably going through his trans puberty and he’s never neglected anything, and he’s done more than he must because Emma’s slacking off. He just started testosterone hormone therapy five months ago, and from what I know about it, there’s a ton of physical and psychological changes. I wouldn’t blame Dean if he needed an extra couple of hours of sleep with all of that going on, and he could get it if Emma would help us out for once.

She still does the required stuff: training on weekends, helping with cases, and staying in shady motels with me when Dad and my brothers are out, but she has her phone on her or reading a fashion magazine more actually showing she cares about any of us. Emma just ignores Sam and shoves him away all the time when he tries to help. Sammy said that she stays in another motel room with Dad now, but what he probably doesn’t want to say is why she does.

It’s bad to where my oldest brother and her can’t be in the same room without arguing over something, but if he’s gonna argue, then why not bring up the fact she doesn’t seem to care about our family a lot of the time?! As early as I can remember, they never got along, and then again, Dad and Blaise are always at each other’s throats whenever they’re in the same room as well. It’s probably just a Winchester thing, since they fight over hunting all the time and that’s what Dad and Blaise still argue about all the time. This shouldn’t be normal for our family.

He’s taking so much crap from her, it’s amazing that he doesn’t lose it, like you read in the page above this. It pisses me off so much when Emma’s always criticizing everything he does wrong. I hadn’t been happy since I wasn’t allowed to go on the demon hunt with them and then I had to do the usual at the motel with my older sister. I don’t hate Emma, or have anything against her, it’s just I wish she weren’t so damn detached from all of us. I barely know her, and I don’t think even Sam knows her that well either, and she’s our sister!

I wish Emma would just hang out with us sometime, or better yet, settle whatever issues she has with Sam. We all know they’ll never be able to sit down and settle their shit out without saying something one of them will regret. I put my earbuds in and watch YouTube videos on my phone or find one of those good older movies Sam always insists are good on a free pay per view channel some motels have if it’s just her and I, and I gave trying to get her stick around years ago. I do what homework I can do without his (or Dean’s) help, too.

At least I had a break from her and deal with normal school stuff, but then I had to come back to the motel with her. I wish my sister would give a crap about us.

I remembered that Dad, Sam, and Dean couldn’t scout the areas too well during the earlier part of the day, so Emma could go retreat into the other motel room after they came back an hour later. My brother was angry, and he was quieter than usual, and Dad stayed away from him. I could see that he was worried about Sammy, but he didn’t say anything.

He decided to go out and grab us some lunch before the three of them could hunt the demon down, something he never does unless my oldest brother is in one of his worst moods. Me and Dean were worried, too, and he asked, “Dad, can we go out for a walk?” Dad shook his head. “It’s not safe, Dean. I don’t know the area too well and Sam isn’t in the condition to go out right now.” He said firmly, then lightened his tone. “Why don’t you find a movie on one of those free pay-per-view channels?”

I smiled at that. I love watching those older movies, especially the ones from the 1970s and 1980s. “What about Star Wars?” I suggested. “I still haven’t seen the third one yet.” Sam lightened up, but he still had that defeated puppy dog look on his face. That’s another thing Uncle Steven says my brother has in common with the hero Sam and it’s his weird ability to give convincing puppy dog stares.

It does work on people and he’s seventeen!

It’s funny that he’s the oldest and he can use it to his advantage, or like today, he wasn’t even trying to make Dad feel guilty. I can tell whether he’s doing it on purpose or not, but Dad seems unsure sometimes. He doesn’t always offer to let us stay in the motel while he grabs lunch and I think he was trying to get rid of guilt Sammy didn’t mean to put on him. It angers my brother when people mention his puppy eyes, especially when he’s not even trying to pull them out for his advantage.

“Let’s see,” Dean spoke up, glancing a concerned look over at him. He picked up the remote as Dad headed out without a word and he still looked worried. “Come on, Sam!” I said, looking over at him. “Old movies always cheer you up.” Emma left the motel room to go hide in the one she shares with him and Sam finally stopped moping when Dean flipped through the channels on the old HD TV, but he was still in a bitchy mood, though.

Most of them hardly ever upgrade to even a basic Smart TV, you know the ones with just YouTube, Netflix, and Hulu on them? Now, you can use an internet browser and connect a computer to it for typing in anything from YouTube to looking up something on Google! Remotes come with voice control and it’s not something extra you have to pay for anymore.

They came out back when I was four and Uncle Steven won one of them in a raffle two or three years ago. He said that the motels back when he was hunting on the road back in the 2000s’ were those blocky standard definition TVs and even lesser amount of something good to watch, so we should be grateful the motels nowadays have standard HD TVs.

“They’re not old, Danny,” he said in a grumpy tone, “they’re classics.”

Dean raised an unsurprising eyebrow at us, then continued to scroll until he clicked on one. “I can’t find Return of Jedi or anything Star Wars, but I find The Untouchables.” He looked over at Sam and he gave a faint smile, adjusting himself more comfortably on the motel bed to see the movie better. There was a single knock on the door and Emma’s ‘code’ knock is three knocks. We’re not allowed to answer the door to let any room service in and we must be armed first, usually a gun loaded with silver bullets.

Obviously, the guns must be hidden just in case it’s a civilian. Me and Sammy grabbed ours off the nightstand and Dean grabbed his from the TV stand close to him, and he went to answer the door. It was a girl around Dean’s age, but he usually normally is mistaken for being a couple of years older than he is. It annoys my brother that people tend to think he’s older than him usually by a year or two. Occasionally, people think Dean’s three years older than him at the most.

“Excuse me, but um, our car is broken down.” She said nervously. “I don’t mean to bother you. We don’t have any insurance.” Sam looked over at Dean. “Hey, Dean, come help me out. You obviously know more about cars than me.” It’s true. My older brother is good with cars and Dad said confidently that he’ll be probably hired as mechanic on cover up jobs when the opportunity arises. His goal one day is find the hero Dean’s 1967 Chevy Impala and drive it for himself, if the hero Dean isn’t there to claim it.

My oldest brother barely knows how to change the oil in it, and when he’s not around to help Sammy with the car, he makes sure Dean is there to make sure he doesn’t damage something again because Sam has the worst luck with cars. He’s been working with cars for about five years now and you can thank Uncle Steven for that, Mum. We’ll never to have to worry about calling AAA or something if the car breaks down because Dean can do it himself with the right tools. Our surrogate uncle and Dad’s cousin (and best friend), Kyle, has been teaching him ever since.

Dean looked over at me and asked, “Danny, can you grab my tools?”

I grinned, noticing the shorter girl with long reddish-brown hair blushing toward my older brother. How many times does Dean have tell people he’s asexual? “Sure,” I said as he got off the bed and walked over to his second duffle-bag. Sammy grabbed the motel key while I got the duffle-bag full of tools and followed Dean out of the room. He locked it and went down the small flight of stairs to see a broken-down car next to ours.

There was a man maybe three or four inches shorter than my brother and one inch shorter than Dean. He inherited the tall gene, too, and he’s above average in guy standards in height. He looms over half of other girls and guys who haven’t started (or finished) their growth spurts at halfway to being 6’0”. He’s in competition with some guys right now, too. He’s lanky, like I said before, and it’s a lot like Sam’s.

It’s weird because Emma’s about 5’3” and that’s short. Not to mention her and Sam look identical with the same black hair and pale skin, and sometimes people think she’s older than him! They’re a rare kind of twins, called sesquizygous, which means they’re semi-identical. Shouldn’t his twin be taller? I asked Dad and he said that Sammy and Emma’s birth mum was the same height as her. Dad also said that the tall genes more than likely come from the Winchester side, so it explains why Sam’s probably gonna be looming over more people in a year since guys can grow up to nineteen. It doesn’t stop people from thinking he’s a couple of years younger than he actually is, and assuming he’s Dean (and sometimes Emma’s) emo hippie little brother.

“Lindsay, I told you not to go knocking on stranger’s doors,” the man scolded the red-haired girl. “You don’t know what kind of psycho you could draw out!”

Sammy chuckled. “Well, fortunately, you drew out three honest Germans instead of some sort of American psycho,” he said with his weird sense of humour, and occasional movie references. When he does laugh and attempt at a joke, it’s dark stuff he’s talking about, or he’s insulting somebody’s intelligence. “I’m Sam and you’re lucky my brother, Dean, is a prodigy mechanic.”

Dean gave him a look, which is kind of like a Hollywood spin-off version of a ‘bitch-face,’ compared to his. It’s not as good as the original and it’s probably not gonna be put in a top ten best movies list by critics, but it still makes a hell of a good story and you’re not gonna want to miss out on it in the theatres (or when it’s on a free pay-per-view channel, if you’re like us). You should have seen the look on the man’s face when Sam gave his and Dean’s names.

The guy seemed shocked with hearing both names in one sentence, and the topic not being the heroes Sam and Dean.

“I’m not a prodigy at mechanics and I still have a lot to learn.” Dean spoke with annoyance in his voice, probably stemming from the usual embarrassment when my brother compliments him in public on something. It’s more like bragging on him and he’s prouder of Dean than he is of himself, believe it or not. Sam grown his hair out long when Dean got his cut short just to help boost his confidence in himself and I think he’s more confident about my oldest brother than he is of himself.

That just shows how much Dad wanted a stoic little soldier and how far he went to make Dean into one, and even Sammy questions Dad occasionally, but Dean doesn’t ever. The girl, Lindsay, was trying not to stare at my older brother with a visible blush on her face. According to most people we’ve run into, Dean is a good-looking guy and somebody of either binary genders usually hits on him. I handed the bag of tools and laughed.

“I’m Danny, by the way.” I said with what Sam calls my ‘shit-eating’ grin. “Don’t let my older brothers scare you away. They’re harmless, unless you threaten one of them in front of the other.” It’s true and it usually works just in case somebody does try to pull something or give them the runaround. I said that on a hunch and the couple looked a bit freaked out by it, and they should be if my oldest brother does see somebody attempt to hurt him.

Dean shoved me in the shoulder lightly and headed toward the guy’s car while I earned a bitch face from him. “Sammy’s been showing you too many horror movies,” he remarked dryly. “What’s going on with your car?” He asked the guy. The man sighed. “No offence, kid, how old are you? Do your parents’ let you work on stranger’s cars?” He raised a questioning eyebrow, probably annoyed.

“I’m sixteen,” he answered, knowing why he asked. “My dad lets me work on cars and he trusts Sam’s judgment. If my older brother doesn’t trust you, he won’t let me work on your car.” Sammy nodded in agreement. “He’s right. I wouldn’t let Dean work on somebody’s car if I suspect you’re a threat.” He said over-protectively. “Our dad doesn’t even trust me to change the oil in my own car, so that should tell you my brother’s good at what he does.”

The man looked he was about to relent when a woman and an older guy, around Sam’s age, approached the car. Not to mention, freaked out. They had bags of food from the convenient store within walking distance from the motel we’re staying at. “Honey, one of these boys offered to help fix the engine,” he said warily to his wife, glancing a look over at Dean. “Can you fix an engine, Dean?” He asked reluctantly.

“Yeah,” He answered instinctively with a nod. “Don’t worry about my safety. If you have a spring to keep the trunk open, I’ll be fine. I’ve worked on the one in my dad’s and my older brother’s enough times. Sam has the worst luck with cars, so I have plenty of experience.” He’s not kidding, Mum. Sam broken the gas cap on his Honda and even the ignition lock more than once, not limited to the radio and even his seat belt, and more I could spend all day writing down. Dean’s claimed that not even an unsupervised two-year-old could break that many things within a short time span as my oldest brother tends to and scolds him to be more careful.

That’s why he’s not allowed to do anything other than put gas in the car, use the windshield wipers, and put on his seat belt without Dean’s supervision. He accuses him and Dad of treating him like a toddler they have to keep an eye on when it comes to cars constantly. They literally do keep an eye on him after all of the repairs Dad had pay for after all, so I’m not exaggerating. It didn’t stop him from giving her an irritated look. Dad’s put more money in damages for replacing the many basic things he’s managed to damage beyond repair to let Sam’s puppy eyes convince him otherwise. That’s why Dean must inspect his car every week or so to make sure he’s not accidentally ‘abusing’ it, as he likes to call it. Sammy isn’t allowed to do much of anything with cars without close supervision.

“Eric, are you serious?” The woman asked with a mix of concern and anger. “Just because that boy could get his driver’s license right now, it doesn’t mean he can’t get hurt.” “Excuse me,” I spoke up in most respectful I could use before Sam could speak up. “Dean’s done harder stuff on cars before. Our older brother over there, Sam,” I gestured to my brother, “isn’t even allowed to change the oil in our dad’s car without Dean around.” The guy around Sam’s age, three inches shorter than him, gave Dean a dirty look.

“Dad, you said you’d give me this car when it’s fully repaired, and you’re gonna let this foreign guy work on it?” He said incredulously. “Who happens to be named Dean with a brother named Sam? What’s next? Are their last names Winchester, too?” I literally had to hurry back to Sam and keep him from going after the guy. God, my brother’s thin and he doesn’t look all that strong, but Sammy could easily injure the guy and Dad thinks I have bad impulse control. “Sam, it’s not worth it.” I told him quietly. “You don’t want to get in trouble when Dad gets back. Just let him fight this battle himself.”

It’s not the first time Dean’s ability has been doubted because of being German and that’s usually from people who have anti-immigrant sentiments. He wears flannel button-up shirts and worn out blue jeans a lot, and brown work boots after all. A lot of people seem to think somebody like that is a redneck, so if we weren’t from Germany, we’d probably sound Kansan.

“Jeremy,” the man scolded.

Sam hates anybody who has an anti-immigrant attitude, and especially toward those who mock our accents or joke about Nazis, as you know that stuff shouldn’t be joked about. Combine that with the insult to the heroes Sam and Dean, it’s like the moron was asking to be clocked out. We don’t like being reminded of our birth country’s dark history, and especially people saying shit about our family.

“Shut up! What’s wrong with my last name being Winchester?” Dean snapped at Jeremy with a glare, surprising them. It’s hard to anger him but insult his nationality or our family’s legacy, and he’s off. “Just because I’m from Germany, dumbass, doesn’t mean I don’t know how cars made outside of my country work.” He snapped in a near homicidal rage. “Immigrants are more capable of things than you seem to think we are, and the heroes Sam and Dean have never killed anybody!”

Sammy had an expression on his face I could read easily, and it usually happens when nationalists’ talk shit, and when people talk shit on their namesakes, it’s more like preventing a homicide than a fight at points like these. “Yeah, just because you can speak English doesn’t prove you know cars!” The other guy snapped back with a taunt before the woman could speak up. “You think you’re smarter than me? How are those guys heroes in the first place? They killed a bunch of people and you’re glorifying them!” Yeah, in this family, insulting the heroes Sam and Dean are like how Christian families treat God’s name, and instead of quoting the Bible, mostly Sammy quotes one of the stories Uncle Steven told us when we were little. Most of them had to be re-told to me since I was three, though.

“Is that supposed to make me back off, or want to take you seriously?” Dean taunted back, his glare getting harsher with his anger, even sounding nearly as arrogant as Sammy right there, and it was getting more difficult to hold my oldest brother back. “I think somebody smart could come up with a better insult than that, not that I expect an uninformed son of bitch like you to know what you’re talking about. You’re in a bit of height disadvantage, too, so check your facts before you assume my and Sammy’s namesakes are murderers.”

If the situation weren’t as serious, I think Sam would’ve praised him for destroying the guy in front of his family. That’s the way he would go about it to make sure he looks like the smarter one in the situation, like how he prefers to be. His methods rely on a lot of intimidation (especially involving his height), trying to sound smarter than them, and throwing off guard with counter arguments, and I’m not even daring to question how that would be okay with the hero Sam as I’m not his namesake.

Obviously, nobody can forget his puppy dog eyes on making himself look like he was defending himself, if he needs to sometimes. I was surprised because normally that’s my brother’s tactic with insulting people and it’s kind of hard to match his level of pride, and Dean sounded prideful himself right there. He’s not that kind of person and you’ve seen that he’s more than less modest about his abilities. In that case, he’s the opposite of Sam, who has the biggest ego I’ve ever seen. Dean would’ve kept fighting with the guy to the point of fighting him if no one were around to see.

“Jeremy, stop it.” The woman said sternly at the same time Sam ordered irritably, “Dean, knock it off! Dad will be here soon.” He’d use the exact same tone with me if I were about to clock another guy out, Mum. “Our namesakes wouldn’t condone violence done in their names!”

Note, the word ‘civilian’ was left out, for a good measure.

It was weird that Sammy sounded firmer than the woman, an actual parent, and more along the lines of a pissed off drill sergeant. The woman seemed more like a normally laid-back parent not used to yelling at her kids, and strangely, Dad used to be a bit more laid-back before you got taken. The woman seemed hesitate to even speak up and anxious to do so while my older brother doesn’t hold anything back, and he was struggling with his own anger there. The girl, Lindsay, was looking at my sister with awe and a blush on her face as the man sighed. “I think we can afford to call a mechanic. It’s not worth risking the boy getting an injury.” He said as Sam came over and gave Dean a warning look to leave.

“We’ll be on our way then,” he said, intervening. I already started heading behind him and my older brother was reluctant.

“Dean, don’t make me have to wait for you.” Sam ordered angrily, and he was really pissed off.

“Coming.” Dean muttered reluctantly. Sammy sounds like Dad sometimes when he’s in charge and his temper’s way shorter than Dad’s, so disobeying a direct order when he’s angry is like trying to cuddle with a rattlesnake. It’s not worth it to push him past his limit. When we got back in the room, Dean was nearly going to retreat on the opposite side of the room, when Sam abruptly grabbed his arm.

“You know if I weren’t there, you were gonna assault the guy. I wanted to assault him, too.” He said in a concerned and sympathetic tone, since Dad’s given him lectures on his temper and not starting fights enough times. “He would deserve it, too, and I’ve wanted to go berserk on a lot of nationalists and people who disparage the heroes Sam and Dean, but you know—” Dean interrupted him as he shoved Sammy’s hand off his arm.

“What’s your point, Sam?” He demanded angrily. “Dad’s not here right now and I don’t want to be fucking lectured! If that guy’s parents or his sister weren’t around, I’d teach him a lesson.” My oldest brother sighed. “Just save that anger for the demon, Dean.” He advised as Dean walked away to cool off on the other bed. Him and I went to go watch what was left of ‘The Untouchables’ on TV until Dad came in with the food. “Sorry, kids, I got caught up in traffic.” He said as he sat down the food on the bed, then glanced over at Dean sleeping in the bed on the right.

“Is your brother okay?” Sam shook his head. “He seems to be thinking a lot about the demon.” He explained with his own rage mixed in, omitting all the other details and Dad didn’t ask any more questions after that. After we ate, things calmed down more. Dad, Sam, and Dean headed out that night to go after the demon, and they came back around three in the morning with not even a scratch.

They didn’t even find the demon that you tonight, but they’ll find you. Sammy told me there’s nothing wrong with having faith in God and angels if it’s not pushed on other people. He doesn’t believe in anything he can’t see, and it makes sense to not believe in what you can’t see. I asked Dean about faith and why he believes in God and angels when he can’t even see them a little while ago after he was finished praying before bed as usual. I couldn’t sleep with no results about the demon who took you from us and causing Sammy so much pain.

“I don’t know if there’s a god or angels, but I feel safe when I think about them and pray they hear me.” He answered me in a rare time he opens up about what’s on his mind. “Sam told me the same thing he told you when I asked him about God and angels, Danny. You just have to find something that works for you. I’ve read online that mediation is helpful for a lot of people, if you want to try that.” I don’t know what to believe anymore, but I like what Sam believes. Maybe that’s what I believe in, too? God doesn’t show his face and we’ve heard stories of angels from Uncle Steven, but none of us have seen an angel either.

He feels comfort in what he can see, and it makes more sense to me than praying to something who might not exist (or just doesn’t listen). While on the topic of God, demons can’t be killed unless we find knife that the heroes Sam and Dean had, and it’s rumored to be hidden. I can’t wait until we find it and I can see Sam kill the demon with it. I want to be hero like them one day and become a legend that hunters will remember for centuries.

Talk to you later,

_Danny_


	6. Chapter 5\Letter 5 - Sam's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: NG Sam and Dean had picked a fight with a local high school student, and are more agitated and prone to violence than usual while the demon (who has their mom) is near.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.
> 
> \------
> 
> I'll be going back and doing more editing, as I've noticed the lack of needed italic and bold text. You'll notice some Spn references from "The Usual Suspects" and "Nightshifter," given that the surname Winchester wouldn't necessarily be welcomed, especially concerning NG Sam and Dean.

Thursday, January 2, 2048

Montgomery, Alabama

Hey, Hanna,

We’ve had no luck finding the demon that took you and Dad said we’re gonna stick around in Montgomery for about a week longer. I’ve felt nothing except for the need to kill the demon. We’re so close, Hanna, I can feel it. Dad took Dean and I out on a salt and burn on last night to ‘burn off’ some of our anger. Jesus fucking Christ, Dean’s temper gets as short as mine when it comes to a hunt like this, and he’s been on tipping off the edge of going berserk on somebody for the past three days, too.

At least that prick Andy isn’t in her class and his sister, Lindsay, is in her class instead. I’d rather have an awkward crush following me around than have a nationalist asshole around. Lindsay is nice and shy, Dean told me, and even accepting for LGBT+ people after admitting that he’s asexual. Anyways, Andy pushed me to my limit today. It started on Monday when the usual awkward introduction to me in the homeroom happened and I saw the prick in the middle row trying not to look at me.

I’m used to the awkward stares after the teacher says something like, “We have a transfer student today. This is Sam Winchester.”

Usually, most people get past my last name, and it’s not normally an issue unless we’re in places the heroes Sam or Dean (or both) were thought to have killed or harmed people in, like Baltimore and Milwaukee among quite a few other cities. I’d rather have that than him (or anybody like him) in my class any day of the week. I honestly hoped they were just passing by and not actually moving to this area, but thankfully my family and I live on the road and we usually don’t stay in one place for very long.

If I don’t let Dean near him, I’m the only one who will get in trouble for fighting.

Today, I was just leaving my AP math class when Andy approached me with a look of the concerned older brother intent, I’m familiar with. 

“Sam, I’m not trying to piss you off here. We’re both older brothers and want to protect our younger siblings from any harm.” He said civilly and reasonably enough that I nodded in agreement. “I didn’t mean to pick a fight with your little brother, and to be fair, I thought he was lying about you being older than him. Anyways, I don’t know Dean well enough to know whether he’d lead my sister on or not.”

I scoffed lightly. “I get it, Andy, I really do. Dean already **told** Lindsay that he’s asexual, so you don’t have to worry.” I said, resisting the urge to mock the stupidity of his reasoning as I’ve had concerns with douchebags Emma has hung around before (thankfully Dean and I can easily scare them off without much trouble, much to her disdain). “From what my brother says, they’re friends and he’s not leading her on to think anything. He’s _not_ that kind of person.”

I saw that concerned big brother instinct increase from the look of his facial expression and I’d probably be too angry to have a civil conversation with the one of the accused, unlike this guy. “Yeah, I know. Lindsay told me that and I don’t trust your brother at all. If you didn’t step in, Dean would’ve tried to kick my ass. What if your twin sister had a guy like Dean around her? Wouldn’t you think he’d get her into trouble?”

I glared at him for even suggesting based off severe lack of evidence that Dean is the violent type, and bringing Emma into this _really_ made me want to choke him. Dean isn’t anything like that unless you piss him off with the right triggers and there’s not a lot that will set him off. 

“You seriously think Dean’s violent? Emma has nothing to do with this, so leave her out of it!” I snapped at him as I knew I was gonna start seeing red if I didn’t restrain myself. People in the hallway started staring at us and Andy sighed. “It’s just based off what I saw! Come on, Sam, you saw him about to lose it on me! Hell, you looked like you wanted to hurt me, too.” He said, trying to reason with me, armed with insufficient evidence. “You look like you want to hurt me again! Is being this angry and violence over something small like this a Winchester thing, or what?”

I laughed at that logic and he was baffled by how I found this to be so stupid that it was funny, and from assaulting right on the spot for indirectly insulting the heroes Sam and Dean.

“Dean isn’t even close to being as violent as you think. You haven’t been around him since then and you **happened** to press the wrong button, and you did it to yourself when you insulted the heroes Sam and Dean, like you dared to again.” I said reasonably in my anger, and it probably came out harsher than I intended it to be. “Do you always assume shit about people? Are you suicidal, like I think you are? I don’t blame him for being pissed enough to tear you up! At least you’re aware of the misinformation you were believing.”

He started to get angry right there. “You probably would’ve let him take a hit at me if my parents or sister weren’t around to see!” He yelled. “How about you put Dean on a shorter leash before he could get Lindsay hurt?! You already keep him on a tight leash right now, it seems. I’m not just taking an arrogant prick’s word over _confirmed_ information! What’s your problem with the truth?”

I lost it and easily shoved him against the wall in the hallway, then grabbed him by the front of his shirt to let him know how serious I was.

“Don’t you even dare say Dean’s name in front of me again or insult my ancestors again.” I snapped at him. “Don’t go near him or any of my family again, or I’ll rip your fucking lungs out!” He seemed startled by how quick my movements were and how strong I was, even though I have a thin frame. Well, I’m also Hyde-born and have an extra set of eyes, so I’m a bit faster than the average human. I can thank Uncle John for introducing the Marine training to Opa, though.

I can read most people’s movements with my internal vision and it sends the information to my external vision usually within enough time to react, so I tightened my grasp on his shirt as I could tell he was about to break free. By that time, a teacher by and broke up the fight, because Andy wasn’t as tough as he seemed to think he was to break from my grasp in time. I could’ve done serious damage if the teacher hadn’t interrupted the fight and I’m reluctantly grateful for that. I got suspended for three days and they called Dad in, and he took away my laptop after we got home.

For three goddamn days, I can’t use it unless it’s for research on the demon we’re hunting and that’s a lenient punishment I didn’t except, and he fortunately trusts me not to break the rule. I was scared he’d take me off the case and stick on strictly research duty, but he didn’t this time. I don’t know what came over him (and it’s **not** Danny’s suggestion that I have puppy dog eyes), but he took me out to hunt a vampire nest with him a couple miles out of Montgomery.

At least I’m not grounded from the hunt this time.

I haven’t touched my laptop much at all today, unless it was potential information, I shown him about the location of the bastard that took you is at, and I’m hoping the coordinates I gave Dad helps. I’m not even pissed that he grounded me from the internet because I’m still on the case and getting you back is what keeps running through my head.

I’ll kill that bastard for the suffering he caused!

Danny and I just mostly played card games while watching free movies on pay-per-view after I helped him with his science homework and Dean needed help on a paper he has to write for his English class. I barely had the energy to do half of my homework, so you know who’ll be turning in incomplete work again. I’m awful at English, so I hoped my help would be good enough to get him a good grade, if we stayed in Alabama long enough. I don’t really care about my work (if I have the quiz and test marks to pass my sophomore year) because Dean and Danny need my help. 

Emma doesn’t help much since she’s too focused on her own stuff and she does what’s within her limits, even though Danny told you what he thought of it. Don’t tell her I said this, Hanna, but her emotional capacity isn’t as strong as mine and Dean’s. Danny’s is getting there, but he has plenty of growing left to do, and I trust he’ll be capable of seeing all kinds of gory stuff without issue in no time. Not that I think Emma isn’t capable in that area.

Hell, she even came in our motel room today before the hunt, and Dad was out scouting the area with the coordinates I gave him based on the news articles of weird happenings in Montgomery lately. It seemed like a demon might be involved, even if the chances are slim.

“Hey, Emma,” I greeted, looking up from the set of cards in my hand. It was strange for her not to isolate herself, but I figured that she was stressed about the demon as well and needed company to distract her. “Sam, where’s Dad at?” She asked with a concerned look on her face. Dean was laying down on the opposite bed with a book he bought at a cheap antique bookstore for five dollars. It was _The Exorcist_ by William Peter Blatty and he looked up at my twin as soon as she came in the room.

“He’s out checking the coordinates I **found** in some weird news articles for sulfur.” I answered. “He’s **supposed** to be back in a couple of hours.” I saw the tension leave her face and there was some hope in it, too.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” She admitted and that was strange for her to talk about her feelings in the open with us. There was guilt on her face, too. “That’s what Winchester’s are supposed to do, right? Just keep dealing with bullshit monsters throw at us and keep killing them as they come?!” She was frustrated and angry at the monsters, and _not_ me, for once.

Dean and Danny tensed up at this. I wasn’t gonna argue with her on this one because she was right this time. “Yeah, we are, Emma.” I agreed grimly. “Not even the hero Sam could stay away forever, and he had the will to get away for four years of it. They **wouldn’t** have come for us if I weren’t—”

Danny interrupted me. “Don’t start that martyr crap up again, Sam!” He yelled angrily at me. “It’s _not_ your fault Mum was taken and how is it even your fault in the first place? How could you have known about being infected with demon blood and about hunting? You **were** seven!”

I groaned and didn’t answer him. I sat down the set of cards on the bed and looked down. How could I combat that reasoning, Hanna? I didn’t know anything about the supernatural and they killed my birth mom because Dad got Emma and I out of the house in time. I feel like I’m at fault here because my existence has caused nothing but pain for my family. It got the first woman Dad ever loved killed and then it got you seven years later when I called for help. If I didn’t exist, then none of this would’ve happened. How people are gonna die because of me and my fucking demon blood?!

I never wanted to apart of this wicked game and I don’t want to be their key player! Why did they choose me of all those kids born in 2030? I feel like a mouse thrown inside a maze with no way out unless I play my role, but I’m **never** gonna lead their demon army and I’ll kill every demon in my way when I figure out where the Colt or the knife is at. 

You and Dad would be safe in Germany having normal lives if it were just Emma, Dean, and Danny. They don’t understand why I feel responsible for you getting taken and I don’t expect them, too. For seven years now, Hanna, we’ve been on the move from one job to another to find the demon who did this. It was just Dad moving around job to job for the first three years.

“Yeah, I blame you for a lot of things, but this one isn’t on you, Sammy.” Emma said as she sat on the edge of Dean’s bed. “Like Danny says, _stop_ trying to be a goddamn martyr.”

I couldn’t disprove this evidence they had against me here and trying to prove it to my family is a waste of words. It was right then when I thought had been migraine and let out a groan of pain. It didn’t feel like a migraine because the pain was worse, and I never heard of one seeming more like a vision. Yeah, Hanna, I had a vision of seeing you chained up in a tiny, dirty, and old cell (like in those abandoned prisons). I felt drowsiness come over me and I fell on the motel floor while the vision took a hold of me.

You had one arm free while the other was chained to the wall and you only had two of basic human needs: an old prison toilet with paper-thin toilet paper and a shitty roll-out bed with a cheap pillow, mattress, and a thin sheet of a blanket. I saw a demon come by the cell and he had yellow eyes, and the guy’s meat-suit held a plastic plate of what looked like prison food.

It horrified me enough with the living conditions you’re under, but the demon terrified me more than any other one I’ve seen. You were sobbing and looked up at the bastard from the uncomfortable looking mattress you were laying on. Your clothes were the same ones you had on when you were taken, and they were tethered to hell and back. Your eyes had heavy dark circles under them.

“How are you, Hanna?” The demon asked derisively with a malicious smirk. “Let me go, please!” I saw you beg with more tearing forming in your eyes in total despair. “My family probably thinks I’m dead by now.” 

The bastard smirked even crueler. “Don’t worry, they’re still looking, but they won’t find you until Sammy decides to cooperate.” He said heartlessly, tasting every moment of it like it was the last, sliding the plate under a small space below the prison bars. “As I’ve told you before, your son’s the chosen one to lead my army. Nikolaus doesn’t see your boy’s potential and that’s a shame.”

You sobbed harder when he mentioned Dad. 

“What did Sam ever do to deserve this? Klaus will find you and end all of this!” You threatened at Yellow Eyes angrily with a glare and he laughed. “Well, that’s not what Sam wants. He says that **he’s** going to kill me!” The bastard’s voice was derisive. “I’m not worried about Nikolaus. Your husband has no idea how much power Sam can have and what he _will_ be able to do one day with it.”

I became overcome by the vision until it ended, so apparently, I’d blacked out, and woke up on my motel bed with a headache and pain in my chest, and realised that my nose was bleeding. Dad was there and he had a worried look on his face as I faintly seen Danny head toward the bathroom before looking away from her. “Sam!” He exclaimed as I noticed that I had one of Danny’s blankets for his back pain over the uncomfortable pillowcase.

“What happened?” I was startled and I couldn’t shake the vision, let alone even look at my family right now.

I’ve never been this shaken before, nor have I had a vision before.

I felt my body shaking all over and I felt somebody touch my arm, then I pulled away. “Dad, I think Sam’s having a panic attack.” Dean guessed with concern in his usually emotionally-deprived voice, as Danny came over and put the tissues in my head. “Fiona had those.” I heard Dad say solemnly as I couldn’t look at them. I did clean up my nose with the handful of tissues my younger brother handed me, though, so at least the bleeding stopped for now.

I hardly ever get nosebleeds, so why would I get one out of nowhere unless I had a vision?

“You’re going to be okay, Sammy. Can you speak?” He asked me gently, a tone from him that I haven’t heard in a long time, as if I were a wounded animal. I nodded no, trying to gather my thoughts. “Can I ask you a few questions? All you need to do is nod yes or no.”

 _H-how the fuck am I supposed to tell them?! Hanna’s barley alive right now and Dad’s gonna lose it._ I thought, lost in my head. I nodded yes, sensing kindness in a voice I’m used to hearing barked out orders from.

I nearly forgot how gentle his voice could be.

“Okay. Did you feel overwhelmed when Emma and Danny told you it’s not your fault that your mum was taken?” He asked me gently. I hoped nobody would try touch my shoulder or something for comfort again, but I needed to convey my vision to him.

I nodded yes.

“Did you feel any pain, like in your chest or a headache?”

I nodded yes.

“Did you have one or both? Nod once for one, twice for both.”

I nodded yes twice.

“Did you see anything after you blacked out?”

I nodded yes.

“Do you think it was a dream?”

I nodded no.

“Was it a…vision?” He sounded seriously worried now.

I nodded yes, shaken.

“What did you see, Sam?” Dad’s voice wasn’t as gentle now and it was an order in his firm voice, but it wasn’t as firm as his orders normally are.

“Hanna.” I said weakly, keeping still and my eyes shut.

“Your mum? Where is she, son?” He asked me frantically, taken aback.

“S…She’s in a prison cell. One of her hands **were** cuffed to the wall, her nightgown **was** dirty and ripped up, and she looks starved. She **had** a cheaper mattress and covers than what motels have, and she **had** a disgusting toilet in her small cell.” I explained slowly as I had a hard time getting the words out, still shaken. “A-a yellow-eyed demon c-came to her cell and **brought** her a small plate of food and h-he says we won’t find her until I lead his army and he says I’m capable of power, and s-seems to be a lot from what he **said**. Hanna cried, begged, and…She knows we’re coming to find her, but she still worries we think she’s dead.”

I didn’t hear anything after I spoke, and I finally looked up after a few minutes. “Your mum is being kept hostage as leverage?” Dad asked me with anger in his eyes toward Yellow Eyes and I nodded as I saw hatred in them. “You’re not going to give yourself up, Sam. We’re going to get her back without you sacrificing yourself.” He ordered me. “Do you swear on that?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered reluctantly.

“Good. What kind of jail was this?” He probed with an intense and determined look on his face. I glanced over at my siblings before answering. “It **looked** like an old and abandoned prison, probably from way before you were even born, Dad.”

Dean had sat down on the side of the bed I was on and I could tell he was keeping an eye on me, rather than going back to his book. Danny was watching something on the free pay-per-view channel, and Emma kept glancing over at us. I knew she wanted the information right away while Dean and Danny probably needed time to process all of it first.

“How old did it look?” Dad asked me.

“It **looked** like one of those abandoned ones from the 1960’s or 1970’s.” I answered him with a sigh. “I couldn’t see a window or anything. I have no idea where she’s being held at.”

Dad sighed. “I’ll check around to see if there’s any abandoned prisons around here. You just lay down and relax, okay?” He decided, looking over at me. “I don’t know if visions can drain you of energy or not, but I’ll find out.”

I was about to protest and offer my help when he gave me a firm look and looked over at Dean. “Make sure your brother doesn’t leave this motel room, Dean, and _please_ keep him calm.” He ordered Dean with more than a tint of worry in his voice, then turned to me. “You got that, Sam? You need your energy for tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” I loudly and decently enough for him to be satisfied while Dean recited his a bit louder than mine.

“Thank you. I know it’s hard for all of us, but we’re close to getting your mum back.” Dad said gratefully with a faint smile, and I haven’t levity from him in such a long time. “I’ll go check out the area for any abandoned prisons, or anywhere close that might have some.” He elaborated as he stood up and pulled the car keys out of his pocket.

I sighed as he left the motel room and Emma left for the other motel room (as I expected from her). Danny locked the door and Dean glanced a concerned look over at me while he went to grab his book, then sat right back on bed to babysit me. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Dean! Dad said to make sure I don’t leave the motel room and stay calm.” I snapped. “He sure as hell **didn’t** say sit directly across from me and watch me like I’m a three-year-old!”

He had distressed look on his normally stoic face. “Sam, you need to calm down. Dad’s not gonna let you go on the hunt for Yellow Eyes if you don’t relax.” He said with distress in his voice. “Do you mind if I use your laptop to find out more about visions?”

I groaned and nodded. “Go for it.” I muttered.

Danny looked over at me. “You’re pouting like a three-year-old, though.” He remarked and I rolled my eyes while my sister went to grab my laptop from beside the TV.

“Like you have room to talk, Danny.” I argued. “You’re lucky not to be old enough to remember all of the shit that **happened** after Hanna was taken! At least you **had** a little time to be a normal kid. I’m tired of being left out of Dad’s plans for the demon.”

My younger brothers gave me sympathetic looks. “Dad’s just trying to keep you—”

I interrupted him with a glare.

“Safe?! I get that, but Dad _**wasn’t**_ in the room to see Hanna get taken! All I want is a bigger cut in his plan and for him to know I’m not going in any demon hunt blind. How about having a bit more faith in me not turning myself into Yellow Eyes the first chance I get?!” I asked angrily. “I get he doesn’t want to lose me too, but he takes it too far.”

They were surprised by how harshly I criticized Dad.

“Not only that, not enough research is getting done. I can get more done and improve his strategy by putting more time in that instead of moving after every failure! Just doing exorcisms on every demon that refuses to give us information after thirty minutes, or something after a little torture doesn’t cut it either!” I ranted. “We need to find the demon killing knife or the Colt, and the torture needs to be longer and a fuck ton more painful. We’re just giving them mercy by setting them free with an exorcism.”

They knew I was in the room when it happened, but I never told them about my desire to have more of a role in his plan. They just probably thought I’m Dad’s obedient little soldier up until now.Jesus Christ, if I’m not still getting my cut in it by the time, I’m eighteen, I’m gonna try to get Danny to come with me and hunt the bastard down _my_ way. If Dean wants to help me with it, then I’ll try to get him out, too, as I rather him come along if it’d come down to that. Dean can hold himself and fight back, but I’m not comfortable leaving him alone with Dad, not after what happened. 

He wants to a legendary hunter after all, so maybe there will another Sam and Dean Winchester who’ll go down in history?

I don’t trust Dad with my youngest brother’s life, Hanna. We hardly spent any time with him (outside of training) for the first few years of life on the road and he doesn’t fully know what’s best for Danny. I basically raised him and he was too young to know the shit that was happening when Dean and I were still reading him books at bedtime, or helping him learn to read and write.

I’ve never really needed to take care of Dean that much because he’s two years younger than me and he didn’t need nearly as much help as Danny because he hadn’t yet grown out of his cot when you were kidnapped by Yellow Eyes. Dean helped me with Danny more than Emma did, and in my twin’s defence, she needed more time to adjust to the tragic situation. 

She still isn’t emotionally equipped, in my opinion, but she’s far better than she had been in years. A few of the secondary schools here in the States have thought that she may have bipolar disorder and ADHD as well, given that we’re semi-identical twins, yet she hasn’t been taken to the doctor and diagnosed with either one. I don’t blame her for not wanting to be thought of as neurotic, as I’m often described. 

“What are you gonna do when you’re eighteen if you don’t like Dad’s way of hunting Yellow Eyes?” Danny asked me with worry in his voice.

I smiled and he seemed to calm down. “If Dad doesn’t see things my way, then I’ll get him to somehow agree to let me take you with me to hunt the bastard down how _I_ want to.” I explained as I’d been thinking about an alternative plan. “Dean, too, if he wants to come. I don’t trust your life in Dad’s hands, not unless I’m involved. I personally think Emma will run away and try to live a normal life, but don’t tell her I said that.”

He smiled, despite the grim situation. “Does that mean we might become legends one day?” He asked me with hope in his voice. “I don’t know, but we’ll see.” I said as I smiled back. I thought he would’ve protested at not being given a choice. It’s not like I’d give him one in this situation since he’s thirteen and I was basically the only parent he had after you were taken, Hanna, so I have that right to make this decision for him.

Dean seemed to be taking this all in with a look of deep thought on his face. “If Dad’s planning gets go in the way you want it, then you’ll convince him to let you take Danny with you to hunt the demon down yourself.” He stated. “I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’d imagine I’ll see what Emma would do and see how Dad’s doing, then decide. I want to make sure they’re okay if things go that way.”

I frowned. I knew my brother would answer like that, and he’s like me after all, always putting family above himself. Dad screwed him up mentally and he defends Dad’s reasoning—still refusing to acknowledge what he did—and Dean would still stay to make sure he’s okay. I know he was trying to do something good, but it was wrong in how Dad tried to suppress Dean’s emotions. He knows how messed up his method was now and he’s everything he can to make up for it, but he can’t undo the damage. If he’d stopped midway, then maybe he could have done something more to help Dean.

“What I just said _stays_ in this room, except for letting Emma know. Dad can’t know about this unless things go south, and I believe it will. If he can trust me with more decision making, then I’ll stay and continue helping him.” I whispered in a serious tone, not wanting to make it an order. “If not, I’m taking Danny with me and doing this _my_ way. It’s up to you whether you’ll follow or not, Dean, but I understand if you want to stay and help Dad.”

“I’ll think on it, if things get worse.” Dean said, not elaborating anymore. “Dad told me to make sure you’re calmer, and now you got that out, are you feeling better?” His eyes were intense with worry as he looked over at me. “Yeah,” I said, leaning back on the pillow with one of Danny’s blankets over it.

“Danny, why is one of your blankets on my pillow?” I asked him. “You need it more than me.”

“I don’t really need it right now, Sammy.” He said, giving me a light-hearted smile. “I **already** have the other one and your vision probably worn you out, too. You look tired as hell.”

I gave him a grateful look but didn’t say anything.

I didn’t have the energy to argue with him that I was fine, just feeling tired. Him and Dean would just tell me to get some sleep, so I decided not to argue with them. I turned around and shut my eyes tightly. I just wanted to sleep and just pretend that this nightmare called my life would cease for a little while at least before Dad would come back.

I’ll write that part up tomorrow, or Danny will tell you what he knows before I get a chance to write it down. It’s way too goddamn late for me to think about my failure to get you back, Hanna. I’m so sorry and everyone’s been trying to get me to believe it’s not my fault. It is, Hanna, it should’ve been me instead of you.

Your undeserving son,

_Sam_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, that more of NG Sam's personality and feelings (or lack of) have been revealed, what do you think of him? Is he more of an anti-hero of this fic, rather than the protagonist? NG Sam had his first vision, and he's seventeen, while his namesake had his at twenty-two. Any thoughts on this?


	7. Chapter 6\Letter 6 - Danny's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Azazel, or Yellow-Eyes as he's called here, is back. Last chapter, NG Sam had opened up about and vented about his lack of a role in the search for Hanna, and seems to be open to rebelling as his father (and save Hanna his own way). All the anger he had is taken out on civilians, albeit going too far when trying to choke one of his classmates in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.
> 
> \--------
> 
> Info I should elaborate on: Kyle Winchester is Klaus' American cousin and best friend, from Kansas, one of the NG Winchester kids' surrogate caretakers when they were young. He's one of the select few people Klaus trusts with his kids. Kyle is a hunter as well who runs an auto shop in Kansas City, where he lives, and takes local cases.
> 
> Steven Archer, referred to Danny as Uncle Steven, is the NG Winchester kids' surrogate uncle who was hunter during Sam and Dean's time on Earth who acted as a father for Klaus and his younger twin brother. Now, he acts as an uncle for the elder of the twins. 
> 
> Steven also has told the NG kids stories about Sam and Dean, and as you guys have seen, he cares about his surrogate son'sn's kids like they're his own. He lives in Lawrence and he takes local cases, so between staying with Kyle and with Steven occasionally, the NG Winchester kids are in Kansas a lot.

Friday, January 3, 2048

Kansas City, Kansas

Hey, Mum, 

Sam hasn’t been himself at all since when him, Dad, and Dean found Yellow Eyes. I don’t know what the hell it’s like to have a vision or what Yellow Eyes told him, but they couldn’t get the information and he vanished before they could do anything. My brother can tell you more when he’s ready and he’s taking this the hardest, only second to Dad, who just dumped us in Kansas City yesterday.

We left Alabama without much talking, only that he needed some time to himself, and we were going to Kyle’s until he figured out what the next course of action would be. Sammy was quiet when he was driving us back home and we only had his usual classic rock station to listen to. Emma didn’t say much of anything, but I know she’s taking this hard, too. She got in her car and drove back to Kansas with us, but outside of seeing her come in, she went into her bedroom to hide. Kyle offered Sam and Dean a beer (like he’s done ever since my older siblings turned fifteen) to help him feel better, and he took it.

Dad called Kyle this morning and told him that he re-enrolled the three of us back into the public-school system in Kansas City, but he made something up and got Sam today (and the next) off. It was a good call (for once) because Sammy’s in bad shape. I texted him during lunch today and sent him a couple of funny memes full of dark humour, but he never responded to any of them.

Emma’s not in as bad shape to where she’d tried to kill somebody, but she’s not talking much either.

Dean is talking a little bit, but he’s not lifting his nose from one of his books any time soon in his free time. He tried texting Sam during his lunch break, and he wouldn’t respond to Dean either. When we got home from school, Emma went straight back to her room and Sam was stretched on the couch while eating a bag of potato chips. Kyle was watching ESPN and the sportscasters were talking about the Chief’s. I knew why he wasn’t holed up in his room and that’s because he doesn’t like to be alone in times like these.

“Hey, kids,” Kyle greeted as Dean and I put our backpacks down. “There’s leftover pizza in the refrigerator if you’re still hungry.”

I glanced over at my brother. “Thanks, Kyle. Is Sammy drunk?” I asked in concern.

“No way. I wouldn’t give your brother _that_ much to drink. He had a couple of beers today, though.” Kyle answered with a concerned look over at my brother. “He’s still not up to talking at all.” I smiled a little when Sam gave Kyle a bitch face and his expressions say way more than his words do. My oblivious relative noticed my smile and looked over at my brother with confusion, who probably didn’t want to explain himself, and resorted to using his puppy dog eyes on as expected.

“Don’t start _that_ up again, Sam.” Kyle complained with a groan and I resisted a laugh. “Those puppy eyes aren’t going to keep you safe from talking forever, kid. You’ll outgrow them sooner or later.” Dean looked over at him. “He’s been doing that today?” He asked, glancing a concerned look over at our brother. “Oh yeah, he hasn’t spoken all day.” Kyle elaborated, glancing an annoyed look at Sam. “It still doesn’t mean he can throw that look over at me every time I ask him if he wants something from the kitchen if I’m going in.”

I couldn’t hold my laughter in anymore and grinned.

“And you say you don’t have puppy dog eyes,” I joked, earning a bitch face from him. “Can you at least talk for me, or are you gonna make Kyle buy puppy pads in case we run out of toilet paper?” My brother put down his bag of potato chips on the end-table and he was even sickened, hence the annoyed look toward me. “Du bist krank.” He muttered.

(“you’re sick.”)

Kyle literally spit out his beer at my joke in disgust. “I’m sure as hell not doing that. If Sam wants to say something, he can talk.” He said with disgust in his voice. “Better yet, say it in English. What did he say?”

“He told me, ‘you’re sick.’” I translated.

“Yeah, I agree with him there. I’m grabbing another beer and you look like need one, Dean.” He said as he got off the recliner and looked over at my second oldest brother.

“Sure, thanks.” He answered.

“Can you move over, Sam?” I asked him impatiently.

He silently moved to the furthest edge of the couch, opposite of Kyle, for us to sit down. I sat down next to him and tried to get him to talk.

“Geht es dir gut? Lüge nicht, nur weil du zickig bist?” I asked him seriously, noticing his mood was more than the usual irritable and snippy ones he has on a regular basis. At least he talks during those.

(“Are you okay? Don’t lie just because you're in a bitchy mood.”)

“Meine Mutter starb wegen mir und Hannah leidet jetzt wegen mir. Wie denkst du, werde ich gehen? Ich bin nur verflucht, jeder um mich herum leidet, wenn nicht am Ende tot?” He answered with a sullen look on his face, not even looking at me. “Wenn Gott, Schicksal, wer auch immer, mustere bestehen konnte, den Helden Sam hasste, müssen sie mich auch hassen. Ist irgendwelcher anderer Winchester Dämon-Blut seit ihm gefüttert worden? Nicht! Gerade ich! Ist es, weil mein Name auch Sam ist?”

(“My birth mum died because of me and Hanna is now suffering because of me. How do you think I’m doing? I’m just cursed, everyone around me suffers, if not ending up dead.” – “If god, fate, whoever could exist, must've hated the hero Sam, they must hate me, too. Has any other Winchester been fed demon blood since him? No! Just me! Is it because my name is also Sam?”)

God, Sam shouldn’t feel responsible for your pain, Mum. Like he said in his latest letter to you, he has no actual reason to feel responsible, but he feels like he does. When he’s like this, he won’t even speak English, and he’ll speak German instead.

“Sammy, Hör auf. Wenn du darüber schmollst, wirst du dich nicht besser fühlen, ob du uns glaubst oder nicht. Tun Sie etwas dagegen! Was würde der Held Sam in deiner Position tun?” Dean tried to reason with him in a way that often makes people think he’s the younger brother out of the two of them when he uses it. “Kämpfe gegen das Schicksal, das Sie für dich gemacht haben! Wir Holen Mum zurück und du kannst die Zukunft zerschmettern. Gelbe Augen versuchen, dich zu zwingen, zu akzeptieren. Der Held Sam hat es getan, nicht wahr?”

(“Sammy, stop it. None of this is your fault. Sulking about it isn't going to make you feel better, whether you believe us or not. Do something about it! What would the hero Sam do in your position?” – “Fight against the destiny they made for you! We'll get Mum back and you can shatter the future Yellow Eyes is trying to force you into accepting. The hero Sam did, didn't he?”)

I smiled as I saw him start to get motivated again. I swear, only Dean can bring him back when he’s like this, and there’s no way in hell anybody can convince him to get back on Lithium. It was easier for Dean to get him out of these moods when he was taking his medicine, and he didn’t get into them nearly as frequently as he does daily since going off those pills.

“Did you mean it when you said you want to go down in history as a legendary hunter, Danny?” He asked me with a determined smile, _finally_ speaking in English again (for Kyle’s sake) and I nodded with a grin. “Once we go after Yellow Eyes and you help me kill him, I bet your wish is gonna come true.”

That’s my bipolar brother for you.

Kyle sighed as he came back in with a couple of beers. “Whatever one of you said to get Sam back to himself, thank you so fucking much.” He said gratefully in relief, handing Dean one and sitting back down on the recliner. He shot our relative a dirty look. “Wait, I’ve only had two beers today, why didn’t you offer me one?” He asked irritability.

He rolled his eyes. “Because you already had two beers today, Sam.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone and my brother gave him the puppy eyes. “No exceptions until you’re eighteen and you can get wasted here as much as you want. If you can still guilt trip people like that, then you’re not old enough to get drunk.”

“The hero Sam **was** old enough,” my brother retorted childishly.

Kyle groaned. “Well, the man you were named after was also the youngest kid in his family and he could get away with more than what _you_ can.” He said impatiently. “You’re the oldest kid in your family, so start acting like it.”

Sammy scoffed and he didn’t respond.

It’s easy for people to think he’s _not_ the oldest kid in our family when they don’t see him in his ‘overprotective older brother’ mode. I mentioned before that Dean looks a year or two older than him before (sometimes three years older), and it annoys him to no end. People usually think Dean’s in grade 12 and Sammy’s in either grade 9 or 10, if somebody’s assuming their ages based on appearance.

As you can tell already, Mum, he’s a melodramatic emo hippie who can’t take a joke most of the time. Plus, he obviously uses his puppy dog eyes to his advantage whenever he knows those will benefit him.

I have a funny example to prove my point. 

Once, last year, Dad let the two of us go to a festival where we were in rural Ohio. I don’t remember the name of the town, but it was small and even had farms in it. Dean was sick with the flu and Emma was behind big time on homework (kind of like how my brother gets behind all the time), so he decided to let us go to this small festival on a Saturday while he was out checking for leads on the ghost possession case we were doing. Him and I were waiting in line for a roller-coaster and we had enough money for one strip of tickets each. The wristbands for every small ride there were out of our price range, so we had to make sure we got on what we wanted and have enough for something to eat.

“Haven’t we been to somewhere in Kansas like this place before, Sam?” I said, looking up at my brother. He was only six feet and two inches at the time and I’m _still_ looking up at him a year later. “Yeah, it **was** a small farm town.” He answered, his eyes shifting toward me, then the small roller-coaster. “I like visiting places like this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You **wouldn’t** want to live in one?” I asked curiously. “You’re not really much of a big city guy.” He shook his head. “No way in hell. I prefer living in Kansas City or Lawrence, or better yet, go back to Germany.”

I laughed. “You know, Berlin is considered a big city, and Frankfurt, too.” I said and he gave me a bitch face. “I know it!” My English, as you can tell, has become better since then. There was an awkward cough behind us, and we turned around. There was a woman and a little girl, who looked about four or five, and she seriously looked afraid of Sammy.

He’s a giant and she’d probably never seen somebody as tall as him before.

“Would you mind watching your language around my daughter?” She asked us respectfully, and the little girl wrapped her arms around her mum’s leg.

“Yeah, of course,” Sam said in a softer voice as he put on his nice guy mask and the lady thanked him. He noticed her fear when she looked up at him and she hid her face behind her mum’s leg now.

“Is she okay?” I asked, glancing over at the girl.

“She’ll be okay, thank you. Lily usually isn’t around a lot of tall people.” The woman explained calmly, and Sam sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, not faking it for once. “I don’t mean to scare her.”

I don’t know why, and he doesn’t know either, that he has sympathy for kids. Maybe it was the way we grew up and it makes him to understand how fragile they are when they’re little. Sammy claims that he never had any innocence in the first place as him being half-soulless as young as three-years-old, yet I know he had some innocence buried under all the soullessness before our family started hunting monsters.

The rest of us, though? Different story.

I lost mine when was five when he refused to lie to me about the supernatural and my older siblings lost theirs when you were taken by Yellow-Eyes. Dean was only one or two years older than this little girl and I know Sam remembers him when he was young and innocent. Not to mention Sammy seen mine get taken away, but it wasn’t anything like how Dean’s was taken away. That’s why he’s so overprotective of me, I think, because he doesn’t want me to feel ashamed like Dean did (and probably still does).

No wonder he has sympathy for kids, and it didn’t help him hate his then-height any less.

“No, no, it’s okay, young man.” The lady assured him kindly with a sweet smile and he had his defeated puppy look on. “You don’t choose your genetics, right?”

Sam wasn’t doing it in on purpose that time. “You’re right, I don’t.” He said as we all moved up in the line and the line was at least an hour long. We moved up and he started talking to me in German in a quiet voice, and that meant he didn’t want to spook the little girl again. It’s seriously rare for him to do something for a stranger out of honest consideration, rather the usual obligation. 

“Schöne Arbeit mit den Welpen-Augen! Du hast Sie wirklich gehen lassen, nicht wahr?” I joked with him and he groaned quietly, mindful of the little kid behind us.

(“Nice work with the puppy eyes! You really have her going, don't you?”)

He shot me another bitch face.

He kept himself calm and we waited for a few more minutes until the girl came over and tugged on Sam’s leg. “Are you a nice tall person?” She asked him when her mom tried to get back. “Yeah, I try to be,” he answered her honestly with that stoic look on his face. 

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“That’s my brother, Sam, and I’m Danny.” I intervened, trying to ease the tension. “Lily, leave these boys alone.” She then gave us an apologetic look. “But Mommy, Sam is nice! Not all tall people are mean.” She argued back innocently with a smile on her face, then looked over at us again. “Is he your big brother?” She asked me, interrupting her mum.

“What do you think?” I asked with a grin and Sam face palmed in embarrassment. “Danny! Would you mind _not_ embarrassing me?” He had an imploring puppy look on his face, as he knows that not even I can defy that facial expression of his. “I think him. He looks bigger, but his face doesn’t look like a big brother’s.” The little girl interrupted, and the woman was more embarrassed than Sam was of me. “Mine doesn’t make puppy faces at people, like Daddy says I do.”

I laughed. “I told you, Sammy, you have puppy eyes.” I pointed out and he scoffed without response as the line moved up furthermore. The woman kept her little girl from asking us more questions and I was glad because I didn’t know how _much_ of that he could take in one day. I told you I’d tell you something funny, Mum. You should probably get another letter from Sam soon and he’ll explain more on what happened. _Please_ tell him that none of this is his fault.

Talk to you later,

_Danny_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more of a comic relief from the angst of the last chapter, and it shows more of NG Sam's personality. His range of emotions are very limited, usually just annoyance and anger are shown more than anything. He truly believes that his birth is the cause of his family's pain, and blames himself for his birth mom's death. 
> 
> There hasn't been a lot of Emma, and that's because she's more introverted than her siblings. Can it have something to do with it her twin receiving more attention from their father than her? There will be more of her soon, and some NG Sam and Dean moments. Speaking of which, when should the Winchester brothers come back? Where are they? If they're in their own personal Heaven together (as I predict happening at the end of the series), should they come back to Earth?


	8. Chapter 7\Letter 7 - Sam's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.

Saturday, January 4, 2048

Kansas City, Kansas

Hey, Hanna,

We’re still in Kansas City and I don’t know how long it’ll be until Dad comes back. He’s called Kyle every morning and night since Wednesday to make sure we’re all okay, yet he won’t pick up the phone if any of siblings or I call or leave him messages. How could I possibly be okay with not getting past Yellow Eyes, and effectively failing to prioritise saving you first?

Not to mention, it’s the same demon the hero Dean killed back in 2007. How the fuck is he even alive now? I didn’t know who the demon was until we pulled up into an old prison a few miles outside of the city limits of Montgomery and I kept Dean close behind me as Dad went down one hallway and I went down the other to search all of the cells. It was too quiet in the damp and rusting prison to _not_ suspect something.

Most of the cells were as equally, if not more, worn out and disgusting as yours. I kept my gun in hand with Devil’s Traps carved into the silver bullets, a trick the heroes Sam and Dean learned, and my brother had the same bullets in his gun. I heard footsteps approaching us and I was ready to shoot. “You don’t disappoint, do you, kiddo?” Yellow Eyes said as he approached me with a smirk. “I did feed you a bit more of my blood than the others, though. Can’t have that Hyde of yours interfering, can we?”

I was about to shoot as he used his telekinesis to throw both of mine and Dean’s guns away. “Why did you pick me?! More importantly, the hero Dean killed you in 2007!” I spat out viciously at him, resisting my urge to lung at him for my brother’s sake. “How are you alive and ruining my life?! Thanks to you, I can assume I’m half-soulless and a tribrid freak!”

I glared him down and Yellow Eyes chuckled maliciously.

“When I heard of you and twin’s birth and found out about who your father is related to, I couldn’t help but think one of you would have the potential. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to feed your sister my blood. Don’t you feel special? I liberated you from transforming and having a conscience! You’re the first Hyde-born to be infected with demon blood, and you’re living proof of what happens when my blood is mixed with your other self!” He said seriously with amusement in his tone as he must have been waiting to meet me for a long time. “I knew you’d exceed my expectations, Sammy-boy, and you even surpass the original Sam Winchester! He was never truly free from his emotions, was he? You _are_.”

My urges to go over there and try to at least injure his meat-suit had become harder to resist, but Dean needed me to be safe. He hadn’t held onto my shoulder in fear for a long time, and I patted him back to reassure him that we’d be okay. I used to talk to Dean softly when he was upset during his initial first year of training when he was seven and I realised how long it’s been since I had to do that to calm him down. He’s usually the one calming me down most of the time.

“Ich werde ihn nicht angreifen, versprochen. Blieb einfach hinter mir.” I told him quietly.

(“I’m not going to attack him, I promise. Just stay behind me.”)

“Gott helfe uns.” He muttered.

(“God help us.”)

Yellow Eyes’ smirk became harsher in his enjoyment of our suffering. “That must be Sarah. You prefer Dean now, right?” He commented toward Dean in amusement and I gripped harder on her shoulder. “I barely recognized you in the flannel.”

If I could look at him and just kill him there, I would’ve done it.

“When I get my hands on the Colt or the demon killing knife, you’re dead.” I threatened with hatred taking over my voice at the demon who murdered my birth mum, took you away, destroyed my soul with demon blood, and drove Dad into fucking madness. “What did my birth mum do to deserve to die? What did Hanna do to deserve getting taken? She’s alive and you better tell me where she is!”

The bastard laughed. “She’s not here anymore and she’s alive, relax. You’re going to have to play your part if you want to see her again. Your powers are developing five years earlier than the others. ” He taunted. “Think about how much more powerful you can be! You succeed the Boy King with his power, and your Hyde does wonders with my blood infused in you.” He was about to snap his fingers when I cut in and I wasn’t about to let him get away without giving me a reason, Prince of Hell or not, I don’t discriminate based on whether a monster has a rank and title or not.

“Answer the goddamn question, Azazel, why me? Why do you call me the Progenitor?” I demanded and he looked at me with more seriousness. “Because it had to be you, Sam. Your power ascends from the would’ve-been Boy King, a gift from me.” He said more seriously this time. “If you want more answers, I suggest getting on with the program. You can’t keep the intermission going on forever, kiddo.”

The yellow-eyed bastard snapped his fingers and he set the place on fire, and I picked up our guns off the part of the floor that wasn’t on fire yet. I couldn’t stop myself from asking him why, and it must be me? What did I do to deserve the hero Sam’s original power? That doesn’t make any sense, except for the reasoning of the title I never asked for! Inevitably, that left me more questions than answers.

“Nimm deine Waffe, Dean. Wir müssen Dad finden und verschwinden.” I told him softly as he took his gun out of my hand, despite his trembling and I remembered how often he shook during the first couple years of his training. I remember how often Dad’s yelling and barking orders would cause him to be jumpy, tremor whenever Dad raised his voice (especially at him), for the first couple of years of training. I had to put that out of my mind and focus on getting us out of here, and find Dad.

Dwelling on shit that should never have happened in the past could end in our deaths, so I did my best to put myself back in the present mostly.

(“Take your gun, Dean. We need to find Dad and get the fuck out of here.”)

Dean and I ran down the hall and I made sure he was right behind me and we thankfully saw him at the entrance of the prison. He promptly let go of my shoulder, although he was still shaken to hell and back as soon as Dad was in sight. “Sam, Dean, are you both okay?” He asked us worriedly as the three of us rushed out. He would’ve understood if he needed to hang on to me, but I know why she did.

“Yeah,” he and I happened answer in unison.

“Did you see your mum?” He asked us with his face nearly as pale as my skin.

I shook my head and felt the failure of getting you back crush upon my shoulders. Maybe Dad’s right about me; I’m just too blinded by revenge to think straight! How could I tell Dad about my failure and the fact the first thing I said to that bastard was asking him why he picked me? He would be disappointed if he knew how much I am like Uncle John, who was motivated and made his decisions based on getting revenge on the same demon we’re dealing with now.

How could I be so goddamn selfish?

I’m sorry, Hanna. I let my anger get the better of me and could only think of what he did to destroy my life. Please forgive me and I hope Dad can forgive me for how I’ve becoming like Uncle John if you decide to share these letters with him one day.

“Yellow Eyes said that she’s not here. It’s not gonna be the case, but he said we’re not gonna see her again until Sam plays his part.” Dean answered for me as he looked up at me in concern in his usual calm and stoic manner, just a little more freaked out. “There’s other people like him, too, and Yellow Eyes says that he has a five-year head start because of his defunct Hyde.” Obviously, he left out my conversation with the bastard.

I couldn’t relax with this guilt on my mind and it was eating at me on the inside knowing I could’ve done something more than let my need for revenge blow my chance of receiving more information on where you are. I’ve been having worse nightmares than usual ever since, seeing you locked up and weakened, and I wasted my first opportunity to save you.

I just pray it’s not the last, hoping there’s a god out there hearing me.

“Dean, help me get your brother in the backseat.” Dad ordered with a look of concern over at me, barely able to stand with dizzy vision. You know Dad’s only about 6’1” and my brother is a couple of inches shorter than him. I don’t remember what happened next and the next thing I know is that we’re almost back at the motel. I didn’t let them know I was awake and kept my eyes shut to listen with no energy for any questioning.

“Now, the demon is the Prince of Hell Azazel?” Dad asked him with confusion in his serious tone.

“Yeah, from the looks of it,” I heard Dean answer with a bit more emotion than usual, “the same one that fed the hero Sam his blood and drove Uncle John mad.”

Dad sighed loudly, from what I could hear. “I thought that bastard died back in 2007. I don’t know how Azazel could’ve been resurrected!” He said with frustration in his voice, now yelling. “Has any other monsters they killed have come back to life as well?! Goddamnit, do I have to worry about preventing the Biblical Apocalypse now and keeping Sammy from Lucifer possessing him now?!”

There was a silence between him and my younger brother.

“I didn’t intend on this kind of life for you kids and I never wanted you to grow up like I did. Your oma suggested that I keep you in Germany while I go hunt for that monster, like your opa did for a few years. ” He admitted. “Sammy’s right in the middle of it and there’s no running from this, otherwise I would have kept you in Germany and stayed with you there.”

I was surprised by that admission and I nearly forgot that Dad ran to live with a relative in Charleston, where he met my birth mum, to get away from hunting before going back to Germany with her to have Emma and I. He didn’t sound like the stoic drill sergeant I’ve known a lot longer than the hopeful dad determined not to make the same mistakes as his dad and especially Uncle John’s.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you, Dean. I know this apology is overdue and I’ve been trying to make up for shoving you away from the gender you were born as. I wanted you to be strong enough to handle the pain that comes with hunting and I went overboard, much farther than your opa went with my brother and I.” Dad said with sincere remorse in his voice and I never heard him admit to it before, but I always noticed the shame on his face. “I didn’t want you to think being female is a bad thing. For what it’s worth, can you forgive me? I don’t know if Sam can forgive me, I remember how angry he was and I made it worse when I got after him for being defiant and constantly arguing with me. Anyways, I will do better for you kids...And hopefully make up for all of the misery I put on you.”

I didn’t hear anything from her a few minutes, but then there the response I expected. “Of course. You **were** trying to do the right thing and doing your best is the only thing you can do.” He answered. Honestly, I’d also would’ve said the same thing if it were me, and I don’t mean that as in excusing what he did to my brother. “I like the perks of being male more anyways.”

I’ve had time to accept what happened and my anger toward Dad has become tame, yet I blame him for putting more intense pain on Dean than the rest of us. All that matters now is that he _never_ does anything like that again, even if he doesn’t keep his promise. I know his terrible track record with keeping promises and consistency in going back on them, so as bad as this sounds, I don’t put stock in any promise he makes anymore.

As long as he _never_ goes back on his word to me years ago to not ever go that far again, especially toward my younger brother here. Dean wasn’t lying there about liking the advantages that guys have and he doesn’t have to worry about female gender roles being shoved on him (and I’m surprised those are _still_ around). There are advantages of being male and he fits the bill with her masculinity, so Dean just blends in with other guys.

I can tell he feels bad for Emma when my twin must put up with sexism at times. If Dean gets at least three more inches taller, he can intimidate other guys better than he can now. I smiled a little bit as I continued to pretend to be asleep and Dad “woke” me up when we got back to the motel room. The plan had been to sleep the rest of the night and check out in the morning, then the four of us were going back home in Kansas City.

Please forgive me, Hanna.

Your cursed son,

_Sam_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German translations:
> 
> Oma= Grandma  
> Opa= Grandpa
> 
> I hope the translation is correct and the online translation site I'm using is accurate.
> 
> \--------  
> Klaus finally apologized, but will he keep his promise to do better? I hope that I got Azazel's character down, and if not, I apologize. I'm pretty sure I have the right idea at least, so if he's OOC, please let me know. I'm not very confident at writing canon characters a lot of the time.
> 
> NG Sam's devout respect for his father isn't as devout as it looks, as he really doesn't trust Klaus to keep his word amongst other little things. NG Sam doesn't like leaving NG Dean alone with him, given the incidents that made him the way he is today, and doesn't trust Danny with him either.
> 
> Compared to the first chapter, NG Sam seems more devoted and respectful of Klaus than he really does feel. He doesn't want to distrust his dad, or consider going his own way as soon as he turns eighteen (as long as his siblings are safe, and Danny is with him). NG Sam clearly remembers what Klaus was like before all of this, mostly laid back and having a good sense of humor.
> 
> What do you guys think?


	9. Chapter 8/Letter 8 - Danny's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do other hunters make of these NG Winchester's? Find out in this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.

Monday, January 6, 2048

Kansas City, Kansas

Hey, Mum, 

I think we’ll probably be staying in Kansas City for at least another week or two. Sam’s returned to himself for the most part, but he’s still off. Emma’s still locking herself up in her room except to walk down the hallway to use the bathroom, grab something to eat from the kitchen, and go to school. Dean’s been quieter than usual and not as on edge as he’d normally be. As for me, I’ve been trying to get by without getting too used to staying at Kyle’s for more than a few days and keeping myself busy to get my mind off the demon hunt.

Sammy and I have been watching classic movies on a free movie channel on Kyle’s cable package at night and he’s been catching me up on the older Star Wars movies. Other than watching movies, he’s had more time to help me with memorising exorcisms and studying up on our family history, in case of the Biblical Apocalypse reemerging.

We’d also been taking advantage of getting caught up on TV shows on cable, lately it’s been _a lot_ of Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, The Twilight Zone, Game of Thrones, Doctor Who, or Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Gotham when I have the remote. I nearly forgot how good cable is since we haven’t been to Kyle’s for a few months before the demon hunt since we hardly ever have access to it. If Dean can ever put down one of his books, he mostly likes detective or cop shows, like Sherlock and Law and Order SVU. I’m more into superheroes myself, usually Marvel movies, and sometimes a DC show.

Uncle Steven says it’s a rip-off and that’s why he has Hulu TV instead of paying for channels that most of time go unwatched, which has all of Sam’s favourite shows and most of my favourite Marvel movies. He just pays for internet and Hulu TV is only $50 a month, and he said it’s less expensive that way. Kyle knows all of that but keeps cable anyways because he said paying for both would be too expensive for him.

It’s still kind of outdated, kind of like the pay-per-view we rely on the most for entertainment (the very little of it that’s actually free in most motels), but enough people use it to keep the businesses going. I’ve heard of people who keep using cable or pay-per-view for nostalgia purposes, and I think Kyle keep using it for that reason. Not to mention, he gets the whole sports package, because he’s huge on sports, but it makes for good background noise for the three of us who don’t like sports, or don’t care for it very much.

Emma tolerates it better than what the rest of us watch, especially since she says all the Star Wars, Star Trek and Lord of the Rings stuff ‘bores her to sleep,’ and it has happened before. Her tastes in entertainment are more modern, mostly reality shows about romance and drama, although she’s acknowledged that she still enjoys older movies (just not as much Sam, Dean, and I do). 

My family uses pay-per-view because it’s all we really have, and the free stuff is usually worth checking out. Now, that I think about it, we don’t have much at all compared to most people. Kyle lives within the city limits and there’s more than a few places within a short walking distance. There are restaurants, stores, churches, and so many things around us. If we’re only walking during the day, it’s safe to go out.

We were going to a diner for lunch with it being the cheapest option and anywhere else is expensive (at least for us) in Kansas City. We’ve spent more time here (and in Lawrence) than anywhere else, so some people know who we are after Dad’s ditched us in both places enough times over the years. Hardly any of them know we’re hunters, except the local ones (and a few of other traveling ones), obviously. A lot of them don’t like working with Dad because of simply him being a Winchester, including the tragedies and violent deaths that follows us around, and keep their distance from us since we’re apparently “demon magnets.”

They don’t know the whole story, fortunately, otherwise the ones who think only in black and white would try to hunt Sammy. It’s a good thing most hunters think Hyde-borns are mythological, usually thought of on the same par as unicorns. Sam and I arrived at the diner and took our usual seat at the booth at the very end, and that’s because there’s other hunters around. Dad doesn’t trust them, and he told us to steer clear of the ones we don’t know (or know that well) since he thinks they could be a threat to my brother. They talk about us, like we’re hunters that should be avoided, and believe that one of us will inevitably start another Apocalypse. 

Sammy rolled his eyes as he saw the disdainful looks mixed with pity from the other hunters glancing at us.

“Those are Klaus Winchester’s boys, aren’t they? I don’t remember what the youngest one’s name is.”

“Yeah, the other two are Dean and Sam. I think the youngest one is Denny or Danny. Doesn’t he have a girl, too?”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t remember her name.”

“Seriously, what was that man thinking when he named them? I know Klaus is hiding something about those twins of his. Blaise won’t say what he found out after that fire either.”

“I keep telling all of ya, Sam and whatever his twin’s name is, are the Antichrists.”

Sam scoffed and I resisted the urge to speak up as we went toward the back with a bit of hurt on his face for a minute. “I hate those goddamn conspiracy theorists.” He muttered hatefully. “They barely know our names, yet claim I’m the Antichrist. They have no right to speculate about our lives.” I nodded in agreement. “They think we’ll start another apocalypse.” I said quietly in annoyance as the waitress came by with a sympathetic smile on her face.

“I’m sorry about the regulars here, boys.” She said and we’d known her a few years now, so she knows about monsters and hunters. “What can I get you both to drink?”

“I’ll get a coffee with a double-shot of expresso, Jenna.” Sam said.

“Same for me.” I said.

Jenna sighed. “Does your dad know you’re drinking that, Danny?” She asked in a concerned mother way. “As long as Sam gives the okay, then I can.” I answered, glancing over at my brother. “Right?”

“Yeah, he can have it.” Sammy answered in a matter-of-fact tone and I could tell he wasn’t trying to sound snarky as he normally would with anyone else (if he doesn’t have to put on his mask). “I **wouldn’t** give him something our dad will say no to.” She gave us that concerned look _again_ and she’s a mom of a five or six-year-old son. “All right,” she said, writing it down on the notepad. “How’s Dean and Emma? I haven’t seen them around since you got back in town.” 

“They’re good.” I answered. “They’ve both been studying a ton and Dean’s been helping Kyle out at the shop after school, so they’re really busy.” 

Kyle’s a mechanic and runs an auto shop not far from his house, so a lot of people in this part of Kansas City know him and know he’s one of the most reliable mechanics in the area. He doesn’t charge any of us, obviously, as we’re family. Dean helps him out whenever he can in the shop if we’re staying with him and he likes being a guy more and the perks that come with it, like Sammy wrote in his latest letter, but I wonder if he misses being a girl sometimes.

“I’m glad to hear. I’ll be back with your drinks and take your orders, boys.” She said with a smile as she headed back and probably hear more hunter gossip.

Sam frustratingly ran his hand through his long hair. “They’re relentless,” he muttered with agitation in his voice. “Why do they always assume the worst about us, Danny, especially about Emma and me?” I looked over at him and he looked stressed out. I was worried about him, Mum, and still am. Sammy blames himself for so many damn things, usually stuff that’s not his fault.

It doesn’t help that these hunters keep trying to figure out what Dad doesn’t need them to know, and I don’t keep up with the gossip, but some are on to Sam. They know about the fire when him and Emma were six months old and have been suspecting both were fed demon blood for years. Thankfully, Opa and Blaise, who used to be hunters who saw everything in black and white, started seeing more shades of grey after Yellow Eyes fed Sammy his blood.

It’s not safe to risk finding out if any other hunters see any grey areas like this, too.

He’ll chew me out for this later, but Sam seems conflicted on whether he wants to give himself up to Yellow Eyes in exchange for you. It’s like he knows that the hero Sam would never agree to it and he knows it’s wrong, but he wants the pain to end at the same time. He doesn’t want to leave us behind either, or he said it himself, he doesn’t fully trust Dad to keep me safe.

This is all Yellow Eye’s damn fault! Sam thinks it’s him we should be blaming for this nightmare and he told you it’s the demon blood in him, so why does he seem to think the demon blood determines whether he’s a good person or not? He didn’t ask to be a part of this sick plan and he doesn’t want to be a part of it, and he thinks by not playing his part, he’s prolonging your pain. There’s so much I don’t know and there’s _a lot_ he won’t tell me. Some of it I doubt even Dean knows, and he tells Dean things that he won’t tell anyone else.

If those hunters, or conspiracy theorists as they tend to be, could know his pain, then they wouldn’t throw so much suspicion and blame over at us! Then again, if they knew the truth about him, they’d want to kill him. That’s why Dad ordered us not to not hang around other hunters we don’t know very well. I can’t believe I’m saying this, Mum, but Dad’s right on not trusting other hunters (outside of Kyle and Uncle Steven). A lot of hunters don’t like us, and we just avoid working with them as much as possible, unless the situation is serious enough that we _must_.

“We’re Winchesters,” I muttered in response, my voice just as grim as his as a family of three came in and sat in the both across from us.

His sullen expression changed a couple of minutes after I said that, and he smirked. “If they want to be relentless about proving themselves right, then I’ll be just as relentless to prove them wrong.” He whispered with bitterness and resentment in his voice mixed with determination to get what he wants. “The heroes Sam and Dean **proved** other hunters wrong, and if they can raise the stakes and win, then so can we. Are you in this with me, Danny?”

I smiled at his suggestion. “You bet. The world won’t see Sam and Danny Winchester coming.” I said with content in my voice, and one of the men over at us with suspicion on his face.

The man not only had a suspicious look on his face, but he had distrust and anger on it. “You boys are playing a dangerous game, if you’re serious about repeating history.” He said harshly with a glare. “Did you consider the consequences it’ll have on the rest of us if one you ends the world _again_? You’re not any better any other hunter here just because your last name is Winchester! You’re acting as if your ancestors should be respected, for all of the damage they’ve caused.”

People glanced over at us, and me and Sammy paled at how loud his voice was as Jenna came back with our drinks, then tensely ordered our food. Other hunters were going to corner us, and Dad would find out all of this if word got around fast enough. If our last name wasn’t Winchester and we talked about going off on our own to hunt, it’d be ignored. Because of our family history, the heroes Sam and Dean hunted together and were probably as close as my older brothers are, and you know all of the shit that happened during those fifteen years.

“If you haven’t noticed, the Winchester legacy hasn’t **had** a good standing in the past forty-six years and you’re too blind to see all the good they’ve done. Rather, I think you _choose_ not to see it, and deny it in your efforts to persuade others against us.” Sam said in a matter-of-fact tone, his lips tilting into a tight smile. “How can such a good thing be considered wrong? You’re worried over nothing.”

I resisted my urge to laugh and looked down at my phone to keep myself from smiling, but I knew what my brother was playing at here with the other hunter. He worded it with innocence in his voice as it went from his usual annoyance to intentionally sounding oblivious to everything in our plan that can go wrong. The funny part is how irritated the hunter was, and it brings in his inevitable ploy to bring out his puppy dog eyes on Jenna or the manager when he’d anger the man enough to lose it on Sammy.

He irritates people whether he’s trying to or not, and if he’s intentionally trying to, he could probably make somebody want to knock him out. That’s why people think he’s younger than Dean, I think. I’ve never known anybody, aside from Kyle, to not feel instantly like an asshole, feel the need to comfort him (usually giving him the response he wants), or do what he wants them to.

“Listen here, you conceited little brat!” He raised his voice after Jenna gave us concerned looks while leaving and people started to stare at us, and I could hear bits and pieces of other hunters trying to keep their voices down. “You might not know this since you and that dad of yours don’t work with other hunters, but do you even care how _your_ actions make the rest of us look if you’d screw up and get somebody killed, or worse? Have you learned anything from the man you were named after?” The hunter ranted. “Those men you boys idolize are _far_ from role models! The last thing anybody needs is a couple of Winchesters breaking the world _again_. If you’re serious about going the same route they did.”

Sam’s smug smile faded, and he frowned, but he managed to keep himself calm. “I’ve learned a lot of things from the hero Sam and the most important thing is,” he said calmly in a matter-of-fact tone with a tint of his usual arrogance, “saving people, hunting things, the family business. To me, it also means protecting my family’s legacy, and the names of those who came before me. I don’t intend to break the world either as that will damage their legacy more than it already has, or put innocent lives in danger. You obviously don’t want to listen to anything I have to say, with your mind already made up about us.”

“Gerald, relax,” The man next to him said with an irritated look on his face, and a resentful glare over at my brother and I. “It’s not worth getting kicked out over a debate with the brat over.”

I kept my glances over at them short and just made sure to notice enough to keep Sammy from getting into a fight, but I knew he had it under control this time. He’s still lost it when he didn’t want to before, so I had to keep my eye out on him to be sure. I don’t know how I’m thirteen and must restrain my seventeen-year-old brother from fighting people who talk garbage about our family. I swear that I’m only one (besides Dean) he listens to! Then again, he listens to Dean better than anyone else when he’s in one of his bipolar episodes, including me.

Uncle Steven says that he’s a lot like the hero Sam when it comes to how stubborn he is, but he said that the hero Sam also wasn’t as confident in himself as my brother is or berated people who have different opinions than him. My uncle said he was humble, and he’s tried to install that in my brother, and let’s say it could’ve been _a lot_ worse than it was when Sammy reacted to it. His pride, I overheard Uncle Steven try to tell him, would end him up in trouble one day. I don’t know about anyone else, but with us, we’re all used to his narcissistic tendencies and Emma thinks it’s because Dad always paid more attention to him than the rest of us.

Dad thinks I’m impulsive, but he’s not around to most of time when my brother goes off like a firecracker after somebody insults one of us, our family’s legacy, or the heroes Sam and Dean. Hell, Dad’s never around enough to know what my brother hides from him and everything he’s sacrificed to keep his twin, Dean, and I safe. Did you know that Sammy was looking at different community colleges?

He changed his mind, even after me and Dean told him to do what he wants, and study to become a doctor or a scientist, even considering becoming a lawyer to honour the hero Sam. He’s always wanted to one of those things, but he gave it up after a few months of seriously considering leaving the family business to go to college, and he was leaning toward studying law to improve the hero Sam’s public image. I don’t know whether Dad would encourage him to go and live a normal life, or do what Uncle John did.

Either way cheers to the fucking cause.

Fortunately, the part of conversation where Sam whispered his plans about leaving weren’t audible to the other hunters, so he doesn’t know that his most trusted soldier isn’t gonna stick around if he doesn’t get more control. If things go according to plan, Sam gets what he wants (protecting our family’s legacy and find the demon killing knife to kill Yellow Eyes) and I get what I want.

This is only the beginning and hunters are already getting hostile towards us, at least those who take us seriously. At least after Gerald shut up, things were quiet when Jenna brought us our food. I ordered a cheeseburger and onion rings and Sam ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and an order of fries. The silence in the diner was disturbing and I could tell my brother was on edge.

Sammy’s arrogant and he’s an asshole, like you’ve seen, but I could tell he was worried more about me. I was nervous and once he noticed, he looked like he wanted to get us out of there. Both of us were eating fast in silence and Jenna came over with two to-go boxes and the check. “Hey, boys, don’t rush.” She said with concern in her voice and worry written all over her face. “I brought you a couple to-go boxes.”

“Thanks.” Me and Sam muttered.

He pulled out his wallet and handed her $10. Everything we ordered was about $7 in total and I noticed his eyes soften to a borderline puppy look because of kindness I hardly ever see from people outside of our family who know his some of real personality. Nobody outside of the family has seen all of it for obvious reasons. “Keep the tip,” he said quietly as his eyes were softening into a puppy look without trying.

“Sam, are you okay?” Jenna asked, worried about my brother and glanced a few dirty looks over at the two hunters across from us. “They didn’t threaten you, did they?”

“No, they **didn’t**.” He said assertively in his solemn voice, glancing over at pissed off hunters across from us. Him and I quickly put the rest of our food in the plastic to-go boxes, and she nodded. “Okay. If you boys need anything, I work until five.”

We both thanked her again and we headed toward the entrance of the diner when the a few of the hunters over sitting on the bar stools glance dirty looks over at us. I think he knew as well as I did that we were unwanted hunters in the diner, and they actually got angry at us! Before it’d been just pity and dislike, but now, they have a _real_ reason to hate us after overhearing our plans.

They fear we’ll end the world one day, especially Sammy. Regardless, we’re gonna start working together and they’re angry that we’ll be raising the stakes like heroes Sam and Dean did. If they’re alive and come back to see the world today, I think they’d be proud of us for protecting their legacy and maybe even saving the world, too! Hopefully, it wouldn’t be us breaking it, though, if that would happen.

Talk to you later,

_Danny_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German translation: 
> 
> Opa=Grandpa
> 
> \----  
> It's been a few crazy days with my summer semester starting back up and lack of energy to write lately. I finally completed the latest chapter, and hope it's adequate. What do you guys think of it? This chapter should be free of any grammatical errors, so if not, I'll fix it as soon as possible.
> 
> Is the public opinion of NG Sam too harsh and suspicious?


	10. Chapter 9/Letter 9 - Sam's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of research for this story and have been hesitant to post it, for I want to make sure I wrote my German main characters and one of my transgender main characters accurately. If I made any mistakes with either portrayal, please let me know and I will fix it. Any constructive criticism is welcome and please let me know what you guys think. I sincerely hope that the portrayals are accurate and are not offensive in any shape or form. If there are any grammar errors, please let me know and I can fix them.
> 
> \-------
> 
> Warning: there's a brief violent part toward the end of the chapter.
> 
> I managed to place a reference from The Originals in it, too, and I drew inspiration from Loki in the MCU. God, I love Loki (from Marvel) so damn much. The reference is from Thor: The Dark World, a revised quote from Odin. I listened to "Control" by Halsey a lot as well to come up with inspiration.

Friday, January 10, 2048

Kansas City, Kansas

Hey, Hanna, 

The word’s started to go around Kansas City about us on Monday and Dad should know by now since hunter’s gossip travel’s fast in different circles. Speaking of Dad, he’s still not here, and he’s in New Orleans on a vamp case, according to Kyle. Other than that, he hasn’t talked to any of us. I’m starting to get worried and I tried calling, and resorted to leaving voicemails and texts when he hasn’t been answering as usual. What reason do I have to keep deluding myself into thinking he’d bother returning any of my messages anyways? Trusting his word almost always leads to anger and disappointment. I don’t know why I even bother trying to get a hold of him anymore.

If there’s a god, I pray he doesn’t believe the rumours going around my brother and I. Not everybody believes them and some believe it to be exaggerated, especially that Antichrist bullshit, and think the others are overreacting. I cleared up the rumours going around about us to him and clarified that Danny and I want to bring the Winchester legacy back to a good standing without leaving other hunters and innocent people as collateral damage, unlike the fabricated nonsense going around.

It would be easy for other hunters to pin the blame on a Winchester for bringing disaster upon the world, and nobody would question the legitimacy of the fact. To them, I must seem dangerous enough to be viewed as a threat, but not dangerous enough to need killed right now. Plus, I’m only seventeen, and I don’t think any of them would want to be arrested for an attempted murder on a German secondary school student.

Is evil truly my birthright, like Yellow Eyes intends for me to be?

Part of me wishes that I could be the villain they desire so badly and kill them to end this fucking nightmare already. However, the hero Sam’s name would be left in complete disgrace, and irreparable. I can’t do that to him, regardless if he’s still alive or not, as I’ve disgraced him enough in these past ten years. No matter how strongly I hate humanity and 90% crap of people in it, myself included, I can’t commit senseless bloodshed as the hero Sam would never give in his inner darkness. Not to mention, he’d never forgive me if I deliberately caused harm to innocents and as much as I crave starting a bloodbath, I can’t become a monster.

For the moment, I left out the other fundamental truths only Dean and Danny heard for right now. It’s the goddamn truth, Hanna, and I’ve considered Dad’s way to be the right way for a long time. I hate keeping shit like this from Dad, but he’ll defend that getting attention is a _bad_ thing, as we strive to stay out of the spotlight. I must defy that order and stand out, given the hero Sam can receive more recognition at the risk of more hostile hunters, but how?

Dad would lose his trust in me, and I can’t allow that to happen until I at least turn eighteen.

My theory on his planning is that he’s too much focused on not attracting attention and doesn’t seem willing to consider taking the necessary risk of getting in the spotlight somewhat, as I believe the benefits coming out of that would be better than the drawbacks. Other than that, I think it just needs to be tweaked a bit to focus more on research, developing more effective torture methods, and a few other things that need to be expanded and prioritized more. I won’t hide from recognition just because my surname is Winchester, and take the credit that’s due to me whether other hunters like it or not.

I really did want to believe in Dad’s plan and I’d hoped he would give me the role I deserve, but it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting it anytime soon. Really, how does hiding in the dark in our line of work help? If things as planned, and demons will take me more as a threat once I make it my way into the spotlight. I need to convince him of how my plan would more than likely work, so until then, he’s in charge of the planning. I can easily improve his ideas and tweak them into providing more progress than failure, which the latter tends to ensue with his planning.

They’ll be afraid of me and if that means another Sam Winchester will go down in history as a legend, fine.

Personally, I think it’s a bit of a stretch to think people will remember us as more than a footnote at the bottom of the page in the heroes Sam and Dean’s history. Danny believes we’re gonna make it as legends and he wants that pretty damn badly, so at least he should be satisfied (if I’m still not) by then. Also, if I’m allowed to be a little bit selfish, I want to implement more effective and adventurous torture methods on the monsters, and let myself be known as somebody that nobody (human or not) should ever fuck with unless they have a death wish or desire pain.

I don’t want to be seen as purely feared, rather I want to be respected for the good I do for my family’s legacy as well, and I must provoke enough fear to make them not underestimate me. If they think I’m dangerous right now, just wait until I turn eighteen and will be able to defend myself, if they should try to kill me later on. I’ll be the one hunter they fear, and more heads and whispers should come when I enter a room.

Subjugation of my enemies, human or not, can only happen if I make an example of a vile offender, such as a hunter who might to kill me. The hero Sam would _never_ condone the killing of a human, especially a fellow hunter, but he would understand that I need to protect my family and myself. The way to show what happens to human offenders is setting an example, such as a beating them up somewhat with no long-term damage as evidence that nobody who crosses me gets off easy.

I admit that my methods are darker in nature and thought of mostly to let myself show more of my less admirable side toward the guilty parties, yet my goal will still be met and the heroes Sam and Dean will eventually gain the respect they deserve. Dad has told me for years to _never_ do anything unnecessarily cruel or violent, and the hero Sam would understand that if it’s protect my family, when I used to go out of my way to mentally torment idiotic kids in primary school.

God, if he never stepped in and stopped me from inflicting unnecessary psychological pain on other people, who knows what sadistic things that could graduate into?

I wish I didn’t enjoy the suffering of innocent civilians and the way those hunters at the diner were clearly afraid for what I _can_ do. Dad used to think I was possessed back when I was little for a reason, and that’s because normal people don’t thoroughly enjoy the pain of other people. Either way, I’ll just follow Dad’s orders (unless it goes against the hero Sam’s code) and keep my family safe.

Outside of my venomous needs, Hanna, I believe he’s trying to keep me safe and I’m grateful for how far he’s went to protect me. I’ve never been a truly loyal soldier because I’ve asked questions from time to time again, but that’s because I’ve had faith in Dad’s plans more often than not. I’ve never been fit to be a soldier in my life and I’m named after the hero Sam Winchester for god’s sake! If I’m meant to be his true successor, then rebelling is a necessary evil.

As you know, the hero Sam was the youngest and I’m the oldest in my family (only about a few seconds older than Emma), so I’m the one calling the shots between myself, Dean, and Danny. Sure, when Danny’s older, he’ll get a chance to make a few calls himself and Dean can make a few for himself right now. My youngest brother will be reading this when I’m done, so he’s not gonna take full charge if I’m around.

Not even Dean can call all of the shots right now if I’m around, so why should Danny be able to?

As for me, I’ll be satisfied if Dad gives me more calls on making decisions and I don’t think he’ll change his mind, so yeah, I’d been playing along for about two years now. I’ve resisted telling him what I want and I’ve given up on hope that he’ll agree with what I want to do. It’s time that _I_ do what _I_ want with _my_ life and that means ramping up the whole research and torture process while finding the demon killing knife. The Colt needs to be found as well, but either should do with killing the demon that ruined my entire life.

Finding at least one of those weapons are my second priority after saving you, Hanna.

This soldier’s life I’ve been living for the past ten years has never been satisfying and being obedient to an overly cautious drill sergeant has been difficult when not enough action is being taken. I was in the room when it began and I promise that I’ll be in the room when it ends with or without Dad’s approval. Whether it be rebelling against him and gaining some extra attention along the way, so fucking be it. It’ll be worth the price in the long run, but other hunters obviously don’t agree, including the other people on Dad’s side of the family trying to stay in the dark.

Blaise dropped by Kyle’s house today and he never quit hunting while Dad left the family business to live a normal life.

They get along worse than Emma and I do, but we’re pretty damn close to being at each other’s throats as much as they are. I wouldn’t let her down or let any harm come to my twin, but I don’t agree on her on hardly anything, and we’re hardly ever in the same breathing space unless we have to be most of the time. It’s kind of like that with Dad and Blaise, but least Emma and I can have a few conversations that don’t involve arguing or blaming each other for something, unlike them. Blaise’s full name is actually Blasius Axel Winchester, but he’d been called Blaise since he was a kid. Just like Dad, his first name is German, but he uses a nickname.

When Dad told me he didn’t want to leave Germany _again_ at the end of the first apocalypse because he had a normal life, Blaise accused him of wanting to abandoning their dad in America. He never really talks about his childhood, raised as a hunter, but one he talks about is that he was happy in Germany away from all of the monsters here, and that’s why he mostly raised my siblings and I there. I actually forgot that he ran away from hunting and he hated every second of it when he was a kid, and desperately wanted a normal life.

Blaise seemed to think of it as a heresy and they didn’t speak to each other very often after that, Hanna, and they still don’t even talk to each other that much. He holds some resentment toward some of the things Dad did, like when he named me Sam, and letting Sarah adopt the name Dean for himself. He hates the fact that our family’s got so much attention in the past and he believed that Dad would start gaining it, and I’ve even told him off on something I can’t stand about him.

He wants to rid the image of the heroes Sam and Dean in as many people’s minds as possible, and that’s a true heresy in my opinion. It’s sad, too, that he doesn’t see any of the good my and Dean’s namesakes have done, and condemns it as if he knows nothing of it. I was about twelve when he came by Steven’s, also a longtime family friend of Blaise and my grandparents, after he broke his leg on a hunt once. Back then, he was at least not a dick toward me.

Dad left my siblings and I there that weekend when he went out on a case by himself, so we were there. My English wasn’t as good back then and most native speakers had a difficult time understanding me with my thick accent, given that I’d only been in the States for two years at that point. I still wasn’t used to speaking the language on a regular basis as I am now, so I spoke less confidently back then.

“Sam, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, kiddo.” He greeted with an overly tired sale-man’s qualifier smile and I didn’t smile back as I resisted to roll my eyes on the bullshit he knew I didn’t believe for a second. I knew how he felt about my name and how I’d been told stories of the hero I was named after, or about Dean’s still freshly recent name and pronoun change. “How are your brothers and sister doing?”

“Good. Danny is a bit nervous about starting third grade, but I don’t have to worry since Dean’s been keeping an eye out on him. Emma still can’t stand me.” I answered decently enough, willing to at least keep things peaceful this time around, unless he’d start something up. “What **were** you hunting, Uncle Blaise?”

“A werewolf,” he said with an irritable sigh, “it’ll be a few months until I can at least get this cast off.” I sat down across him on the recliner in the living room as he was stretched out on the couch. “Is Klaus letting you hunt those now?”

I shook my head. “Yeah, after I turn thirteen in a couple months.” I said with a groan. “I go a couple vampire hunts with him and Uncle Steven, but why not werewolves? They travel in packs and they can turn anybody, too!”

Blaise gave me a look I’ve given Danny when I told him that he should be grateful Dad lets him on the hunts that he does and it mirrored his surprise that I wanted to hunt more. I was only allowed on those vampire hunts because even poltergeist hunts weren’t getting enough of my aggression out and they kept an eye on me like I was a baby taking his first steps.

It was uncomfortable to say the least.

“Consider yourself lucky. Klaus is so damn overprotective of you, so you should be glad he even lets you hunt in the first place, or that he didn’t leave you kids back in Germany.” He said with slight criticism in his tone when mentioned Dad. “I wouldn’t complain if I were you, but I wouldn’t blame you if you did about your name. I can’t imagine the hell you go through with it.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, resulting in an unamused and slightly irritable look on his face, resisting a glare. “Don’t insult the hero Sam!” I said angrily, trying to control my temper. “You know the heroes Sam and Dean **saved** the world more than once and not even I’m that selfish. Him and Dean’s namesake deserve respect, and you know they only intend on good.”

He didn’t resist his, though. “You want to run that propaganda by me again, Sam? You’re a brainwashed preteen, for fuck’s sake, and you want to lecture me on selflessness?” He asked me indignantly, offended. “Kiddo, Klaus doesn’t need to be teaching you to idolize those men, especially the one he named you after. Do you want piss everyone around you off? That’s what it sounds like to me.”

I was about to retort with a glare when Steven came in with a frustrated look on his face. “Blaise, what do you think you’re doing?! Sam can believe what he wants and don’t insult your brother in my home.” He said firmly as if he were my uncle’s dad, and he sort of was for the most part. “Klaus is doing the best he can for his kids, and I don’t want you criticizing what morals he wants for them.”

Blaise was silent, but he was mostly compliant. “Yeah, Steven, it’s been a while since I’ve been here dealing with the aftermath of my brother’s absence.” He said in a slightly calmer tone. “I hope you can forgive me for disagreeing with Klaus’s methods and how attention-seeking they are, or that thinking those boys’ namesakes should be worshiped like gods. That’s the last thing any Winchester wants these days, or what one should do.”

I remember feeling insulted and pissed off, more than I get with Emma, and that’s difficult for any family member I know. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up at Steven (holy shit, I haven’t looked _up_ at anybody in a long time), who was giving me a concerned look, and said, “Sammy, why don’t you go play video games with Dean and Danny upstairs?”

I nodded and reluctantly complied as I left the living room and headed toward the stairs, then heard loud arguing as I shut the door. Thinking back to then, I realised how fucked Danny and I were now, when my pissed off uncle came in Kyle’s house yesterday afternoon. I was in the living room watching ESPN with Kyle and he was annoyed with Blaise coming in unannounced.

“Nice to see you, too, Blaise.” Kyle muttered sarcastically and my uncle glanced a dirty look over at him before turning a cold and hardened glare toward me, as expected. He’s never got along with Kyle, not just because of differences in opinion about Dad. Blaise, from what I know, is more social with the hunting community than the rest of us are, and gets along better with other hunters than especially I do. He treats non-family better than us, and that pisses Kyle off.

Maybe he’s bipolar, too. I got my bipolar from someone in the family, and it was probably him with how manic he is when he actually is around.

“Jesus Christ, what are you thinking, Sam?! Are you trying to screw all of us over?!” He snapped at me and I rolled mine in irritation as he spoke rapidly. “You haven’t forgotten about the other people in the family who _don’t_ want our last name receiving publicity, did you, or do you just not care? I don’t know how serious you are, but a few people _do_ think you are!”

I scowled. “Blaise, is it just me or are you denser than last time you **tried** to make me believe what other people think is important? I don’t understand why you think I should care! Family also means repairing the heroes Sam and Dean’s legacy.” I asked indignantly, shaking my head in frustration as I stood up. “Your stupid opinions never make any sense to me since it always involves people I never met. Why should I care about they think? It’s not them putting their names out there.”

He approached me with even more seething anger.

“Yeah, I don’t get you either, and if you had just a little respect for the family we have still living!” He yelled at me with betrayal in his eyes and he’s six inches shorter than me, so keep that in mind. “Legacy isn’t important when it comes to protecting the people still alive in this family! You’re putting them in danger, if you’re serious about going off on your own with Danny one day.”

I hardened my glare. “I think they can take care of themselves and they aren’t family to me, even if they’re blood. Anyways, it won’t be them monsters might be gunning after.” I said critically. “They’re not the ones infected with demon blood or named after a legend in the family, so that’s unlikely. You know me too well to think I’d take a commitment like this lightly. You should consider getting tested for bipolar disorder, by the way. I probably have it partially because of you.”

He grabbed my shoulder and I shook it off, thanks to my extra set of eyes. “Sam, I know you don’t care about anybody you don’t know, but you need to know how badly this is going to backfire.” He said in an urgent voice as he took a few deep breaths, seeming resentful to have to look up to see me face-to-face, and somehow ignoring my off topic comment. “You’re just like your dad, you don’t listen to anything you disagree with and nobody can convince you otherwise once you make up your mind on something!”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed at how stupid his reasoning was, and his face was full of concern and resentment. “You’re lucky the heroes Sam and Dean are MIA, or else they’d be insulted at how you want to erase everything they’ve done for people from history. Don’t bring Dad into this, or take their names in vain again.” I said as my glare couldn’t get any harsher and angrier than it already was. “Just you wait, I’ll make you regret every heresy you’ve done to their names! I have a plan to rebuild what you’ve **tried** to downgrade for who the hell knows how long.”

Blaise scowled. “God, you’re more arrogant than last time I saw you. Why do you think you’re so special?” He snapped viciously as Kyle stood and Danny got between us to prevent me from landing a hit on my bastard uncle. “If you’re right, then who the hell can ‘rebuild it’?”

“Come on, Sammy, stop it!” Danny said, trying to pull me away from him and I just let him do it. I ignored him as I kept a bit of distance away from my stupid uncle. “Dad’s gonna be pissed at you if you assault his brother!”

I groaned. “I’m not arrogant, and if anybody wants to pitch in, they can. I’m not special in any way, I’m a Winchester just like you, and named after the hero Sam. I consider you more of a self-hating Winchester, who backs up hunters who hate us and goes against his own family!” I corrected him. “Anyways, with that, people will listen to me, and take me seriously. Unless there’s another Sam or Dean Winchester out there, who else can correct people with evidence to back it up?”

Blaise was officially done trying to get me to agree with him and it was written all over his face. “You sound as prideful as Lucifer and the stories say your hero was meant to be his vessel. All of those stories are gospel to you after all, Sam, so get your ego in check before you start another apocalypse with Danny.” He spat harshly with disgust in his voice as he headed toward the front. “The world hasn’t been the brink of ending in thirty-three years and nobody wants another Winchester to break it _again_.”

Could he have said a worse heresy than that? He fucking compared me to Lucifer! I’d been so close to kicking his ass, and then Danny pulled me away, as usual. My brother told me I’d get in a ton more trouble if I did assault Blaise, and if you ask me, he’d deserve it!

I was feeling a mix of anger and hurt as I looked down.

“Sam, don’t listen to him.” He told me with confidence in his voice, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You know your uncle’s always had issues with our family history. It’s no use putting any stock in anything he has to say about it.”

“Yeah, everything’s gonna be okay, Sammy.” Danny assured me as he patted my shoulder. I nodded with grimace on my face after I thought more of what the impact of other hunters would do to prevent us from achieving this goal. “Come on, lighten up. We’ll get Mum back and we’ll get good PR.” I smiled faintly. Danny always knows how to make me feel better, even when things are tough. It’s especially tougher than I thought after underestimating how much opposition we have.

“I hope so,” I said with a grimace on my face, glancing down at my black work boots, and I felt like sinking into oblivion. _All because of me and my fucking demon blood,_ I thought with remorse as I felt that stabbing headache and chest pain _again_ and fainted with another vision.

I saw Dad listening to one of my voicemails while sitting at a table in the corner of a rundown bar with only a few people, including the bartender, and poor lighting. “I can’t come and get the kids when I’m like this,” he muttered.  He was tipsy at least and halfway to getting drunk, and honestly, that what I’d be doing if I were older. A woman took notice, probably a couple years younger, and approached him. 

“You okay?” She asked with a sympathetic look on her face. “I’ve been seeing you every day here getting wasted.”

Dad looked over at her and sighed. “I told myself I wouldn’t make the same mistakes that my father and uncle did with my kids, and now, my kids are paying for my mistakes.” He said in a voice full of anguish and guilt, having too much to drink to care about how information he’d spill. “Feel free to sit down.”  The woman nodded with an even more sympathetic (or is it empathetic?) look as she sat down across from him. 

“Yeah, I said the similar thing about my parents,” she said understanding with pain in her voice, “and now, my teenage daughter hates me.” 

He looked over at and gave her a look of understanding, like he thought he understood, but none of us hate him. Emma gets pissed at him all the time, but it doesn’t mean she hates him. 

“I have four kids. Two seventeen-year-olds, a sixteen-year-old, and a thirteen-year-old.” He said. “I wouldn’t be surprised any of mine hate me, but they’re too afraid I’d put them down again, probably my oldest son. He got the worst of it and shielded the rest of them from it. I was out of my fucking mind; God, why did I have to push them so hard?” 

“I can’t make up for what I did either.” She said. “I was afraid of it from my parents and she’s afraid of it from me, and she barely talks to me.” 

Dad nodded understandingly. “My only daughter, Emma, hardly ever comes out of her room unless she has to do her chores or go to school. She’s seventeen.” He said, probably substituting ‘chores’ for what it actually is, hunting. “My middle son, Dean, won’t show any emotion in front of me and won’t talk to me about anything that bothers him. He’ll just talk to my oldest son, Sam, about it instead.” 

“I’m sorry—”

“Klaus.” 

“I’m sorry, Klaus, it’s gotta be difficult for all of you. I’m Ella.”

Dad smiled faintly, but it was replaced with a frown a moment later. “Right now, my family probably think I’m giving them the runaround.” He admitted. “Does your daughter ever call you and leave voicemails asking you where you are, and when you’re coming home?”  Ella sighed. “No, but I wish Erin would call and ask,” she answered with a wistful expression on her face, “did one of yours call?” He nodded with a remorseful expression on his face.

“Yeah, Sammy did. The kid’s worried out of his mind about me and he thinks I’m upset with him for something that’s not his fault.” He elaborated as he took another sip of his beer. “Emma’s probably enjoying her time without me and I haven’t heard from her, Dean’s texted me a few times, and Danny did, too, asking where I am and when I’m coming home. God, my boys shouldn’t care that much.” 

There was a silence between them.

“Klaus, you must be doing something right if your boys are calling, leaving voicemails, and texting you. Your daughter will come around sooner or later, like mine probably won’t right now.” Ella reasoned strongly. “No matter how you think you failed them, ya’ll have some kind of hope there.”

Dad smiled, for real this time, and he was relieved. “Thank you, Ella.” He said gratefully as a demon came in with black eyes taking everybody, except Dad, aback. “Nikolaus Winchester, far away from home I see?” He said pleasurably with a smirk as Dad glared at him. “I assume you have Sam safely tucked away somewhere. Azazel has spoken of the boy’s bright potential and it’s depressing to see it get wasted.” 

Ellen froze for a moment before getting up and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll calling the cops.” She whispered, but the demon pulled and pinned against the wall, and choked the life out of her (in my) and Dad’s horror. It was one of the most disturbing deaths I’ve seen yet, and it freaked me out. It doesn’t take a lot to freak me out either, so it must be exceptionally violent for it to stick in my mind.

“Why are you goddamn demons so eager to get Sam on your side?! You killed Fiona, you’re holding Hanna hostage, and killing innocent people just for Sam to do what you want! My son will _never_ agree to do anything like that.” Dad yelled with venomous fury in his voice, and hatred in his eyes. “You demons better leave Sam alone and return Hanna, you demonic bastards!” 

“Honestly, must you feel the need to protect Sam from his own destiny? You just had to teach him the old Boy King’s morals, and now your boy’s even making a move against you.” The demon asked with persuasion in his voice, pinning Dad against the wall. “He’s a threat to anybody who opposes his goals, so he probably just sees you as just another means to an end to get what he wants from you. You’re just holding him back from achieving all of his power, and you know how much he likes power.”

“Stop! I’m calling the cops!” The bartender yelled with fear evident on his face, then the demon turned to him. 

“You’re interrupting my meeting.” The demon said while looked away from Dad and focused on the bartender. I watched him fall to the floor to also watch the bastard pin the poor guy behind the bar over the bottles of alcohol.  The bottles broke simultaneously by the force and were pushed into his skin all at once, and  one of the glasses must stabbed a major artery because the bartender died as the demon pushed him closer into the broken glass. 

It was fucking terrifying and I’ve seen some gruesome things on the job, too. 

Dad looked terrified, too, as he tried to get up, but the demon looked down at him with a taunting smirk. “Why don’t you think on it and see why Sam is perfect to lead Azazel’s army? He has morals and pride in them, yes, but he doesn’t have the foundation to maintain it forever.” The bastard said cruelly as he began to walk away. “Think about it.” 

The vision closed out and I woke up in my bed covered up with a blanket, and once more, one of Danny’s pillows on my back as I noticed the tissues Dean against my bloody nose. I saw Danny as well sitting on the other twin-sized bed across from me next to him with concern on their faces. I’ll continue the rest of it in my next letter, Hanna. I’m exhausted. I don’t know how much more I can handle without losing my goddamn mind, like Dad has.

Your son,

_Sam_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My intention for this chapter was to show more of NG Sam's personality, out of the more caring and protective side of him, including the more unpleasant parts. His arrogance has been there from day one and becoming less subtle, especially in the last chapter. 
> 
> NG Sam doesn't allow himself to act on his more malicious feelings, or he doesn't go for what he wants a lot of the time. Despite longing to become a moral person, as he believes his namesake to be, he can't deny that he enjoys hurting people. 
> 
> He's a tortured soul, albeit sadistic at times, with an ambition to be a good person and be worthy successor to his namesake. He holds back a lot of his urges, and as the demon hinted at, can he keep them away without the foundation he needs to be good? 
> 
> NG Sam desires to be more than who is right now, and wants to experience the full ride of empathy and probably not too eager about feeling remorse for his occasional cruelty toward non-family. What do you guys think? Do you think NG Sam is a good person, despite his many flaws?

**Author's Note:**

> I have done a lot of edits, fixed some grammatical errors, and hope those who are reading this enjoy it.


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